Faded Memories
by MortalShadowhunter
Summary: This story is about Jem and his journey before the Clockwork Angel. It starts all the way back in Shanghai where Yanluo is plotting their demise... Watch Jem and Will's journey through daggers, drama, and plenty of demons. I know some of the technical things regarding years are wrong, but oh well. Please R&R. (No. This is not a JemxWill fic...it is merely friendship).
1. Chapter 1

**~~~Three Months Earlier~~~**

They came silently, creeping into the enormous hall with their hoods thrown over their scarred faces. He shrank back slightly as they reached for his arm, taking his wrist firmly.

_Ke Jian Ming. You are now of age._ _It is time for the first of the Angel's Marks to be bestowed on you. Are you aware of the honor being done you, and will you do all in your power to be worthy of it? _The silent brothers voice echoed in his head, soothing and unnerving at the same time.

He nodded, offering his mother and father a small smile. "Yes."

_And do you accept these Marks of the Angel, which will be upon your body forever, a reminder of all that you owe to the Angel, and of your sacred duty to the world?_

"Yes." He repeated, his heart pounding anxiously as the silent brother drew a stele from his robes. The hood fell back slightly, revealing his marred face. For a second, he felt sorry for them, for they could not laugh or love or play music in the dank halls of the Silent City. Thinking back when his parents had first introduced him to the violin, and how much he had grown to love and understand the power of music, he couldn't imagine such a cursed life as theirs.

He was immediately pulled out of his thoughts when a deep burning sensation flamed on his skin that was so hot, it almost felt cold, like holding ice on your skin for too long. But he didn't make shy away or make a sound. Instead, he watched with fascination as black lines blossomed from the stele's tip; swirling into a pattern Jem recognized from the Codex.

Clairvoyant sight. Angelic power. Strength.

The newly drawn runes hardly stung, for they were now a part of him. He was now a true Shadowhunter.

**~~~Three Months Later~~~**

Pushing an jet black strip of hair out of his face, Jem drew back his arm. In his hand was a silver dagger, one that his father had given him with his family name carved on the side. Flicking his wrist, he let the dagger fly. Holding his breath in anticipation, he grinned triumphantly as it stuck in the middle of the target.

"Good job, James." A voice called from the doorway. His fathers brother, Elias, stood at the edge of the room, his fingers thrumming against the walls of the training room. "You're going to be a fully fledged Shadowhunter in no time."

"I'm still practicing." Jem said shyly, though he flushed with pride. He walked slowly over to the dagger in the target, watching his steps so he didn't trip with excitement...not in front of his father's brother. Grabbing the hilt of the dagger, Jem wrapped his hand around it and pulled, wrenching it out of the tough wood. Stepping back, he closed his eyes, trying to concentrate under the surveillance of his uncle.

Counting his breaths so they didn't come too quickly, he pulled back his arm and let the dagger soar. Sighing in relief as the dagger wobbled precariously in the center of the target, Jem wrinkled his nose as Elias ruffled his hair. Kneeling down beside him, Elias pointed up at the window.

"When the sun reaches right here, do you know what time it is?"

"Seven o'clock?" Jem asked hesitantly. He looked down at his uncle who was still kneeling on the floor by him like he used to when Jem was younger, but Jem didn't mind that he still treated him like a small child. Jem thought for a moment, leaning his head quizzically to the side before smiling crookedly. "So that means Mama and Papa are home soon?"

"That's right."

"Because they were killing demons, like what I am going to be doing soon. Don't you do what they do as well?"

"Yes, but in Idris. I'm leaving tonight, remember?" Elias said, beckoning Jem up the stairs into the main hall. Setting down his dagger after prying it back out of the target, Jem followed his uncle, peering over his shoulder.

Bright sunlight filtered into the living room as the door opened, his father, Jonah Carstairs, and his mother, Ke Wen Yu, stepped in, their clothes spotted with ichor.

"How was this expedition?" Elias asked, putting his hand on his brothers shoulder.

"It was quite exceptional. We found another demon nest, that blasted Yanluo." Jonah said, nudging his wife. Ke smiled quizzically, only understanding bits and pieces of their conversation.

"Jian. Péixùn hǎo ma?" _Training okay? _Ke asked Jem, who bowed his head slightly before nodding.

"James, have you had dinner yet?" Jonah asked, setting his weapons belt onto a table.

"Miss Hui Ying made me and Uncle Elias dinner. We ate ages ago."

"Good. Now go clean yourself up and get to bed. Tomorrow's your first demon hunt. Oh, and say goodbye to your uncle." Jonah smiled proudly at his son as he nodded eagerly and bounded off to his room. _He'll make a good Shadowhunter one day._

~~ooo~~

After dressing in his night clothes, Jem instantly went to his violin, drawing it from its mahogany case. Sitting back in an armchair, he plucked at the strings. Quiet staccato tunes thrummed in his hands, relishing the way the violin seemed to come alive with every song. When he went to place his violin back into the box, his fingers trailed lightly on a silver box beside it.

It's cold, smooth lid lifted easily beneath his fingertips as he pushed it up. His mother had given it to him when his father had finally won the institute leadership. The jade pendant that lay inside had be a wedding gift from his father to her, its smooth surface shining bright in the dim room. The gold chain that hung from the pendant was beautiful, although Jem had always preferred silver.

When he asked his mother why the Shadowhunter wedding dresses were gold, she had simply replied in Chinese, "That's the way it always has been. That's the way it always will be."

But Jem had inwardly sighed. If he was ever to get married, he was determined to replace every gold thread with a silver one.

~~ooo~~

He tossed and turned in bed, restless and excited for the next day. Licking his lips, he realized how parched he was. _Perhaps_, he thought, _Miss Hui Ying is still up to fetch me some water. _Tossing his covers aside, he slipped quietly out of his room, into the kitchen. The silence was so thick that he could hear his ears ring. Even when he stepped forward, the floorboards beneath him ceased to creak, the familiar footsteps of the guards and servants were gone, replaced by his buzz of curiosity.

Turning the corner, lying on the ground, was the unmistakable shape of their servant, Hui Ying. Her black hair hand been half ripped from her scalp, blood darkening the floor around her. Her arm was bent at a peculiar angle, lying awkwardly beneath her.

Jem stifled a surprised gasp, his hand clasped over his mouth. His gaze traveled from the grotesque maid to the rest of the expanse of the hallway. Guards lay strewn on the floor, all their bodies ripped to shreds. The sick stench of blood was nauseating. Still wide eyed, he turned around to fetch his parents. Running blindly through the halls to his fathers room, he knocked frantically on the door.

Still, there was silence.

Nothing, but the ever so faint whistles of the wind and the chirp of the crickets, made a sound. Opening the door, he stared into an empty room, the bed still made. Turning around, he headed to his mothers room where he pounded on the door.

Still, there was silence

Turning to check the rest of the institute, he was caught by the collar of his shirt. Desperately trying to hold onto the walls, something dragged him back into the main room.

His father and mother had described demons, especially Yanluo. He knew of their size and their features, their strengths and their weaknesses, but nothing had prepared him for the fear they sent coursing through his veins.

It was enormous; its clawed hand curled around a golden scepter. From a first glance, it's body looked like an imperial soldier, all metal plates. But when Jem squinted his eyes, he realized it was part of the monstrous creature, it's armor melting into it's twisted face. Jem knew he was supposed to be brave, but without a dagger in his hand, or a seraph blade strapped to his back, he felt helpless. Something hard slammed into the back of his head, and everything turned black.

~~ooo~~

**Authors Note: I'm not Chinese and I'm not fluent in Chinese. Please pardon my bad Chinese sentence that Ke Wen Yu says...lol...**


	2. Chapter 2

He blinked his eyes open, trying to move to the side when he realized he was bound. His arms were tied behind his back, his legs tied to the chair legs. Looking up, he saw his mother and father, their eyes wide with horror. As he bent his head down, pain shot from the back of his head down his spine.

Something burned in his arm, like a rune, but deeper and more painful. Looking down, a dark syringe was stabbed awkwardly in his arm. A hand wrenched his head back, drizzling a black, viscous liquid into his mouth.

In the back of his mind, he could hear someone yelling, but his mind quickly blurred into darkness. Small shapes flitted in his mind, memories being played over, nightmares being created.

_Jem stood on the edge of a river, his hands stuffed in his pockets. The sky was** luminously blue, like pansies**, the sun gleaming and reflecting off the river. Each ray of light looked like a broken crystal, chiming as they bounced off of the water. _

_Glancing down to admire the river, small shadows bobbed underneath it. Leaning down, Jem peered down into the water. A hand seized him, pulling him under, choking him. It was a boy, his age, who had his arm wrapped around his neck. Bubbles floated to the surface as Jem kicked, the boy's grip surprisingly strong. He gasped for air, trying to reach the surface as he was being dragged lower and lower, deeper and deeper._

His eyes snapped open to the sound of his mothers shrieking. Her hair was a tangled mess, lowered over her tearstained face. He tried to call out for her, but the edges of his vision clouded again.

_ He was in a ballroom, his hand placed delicately on a girl's waist, his other hand entwined with hers. Her head was against his chest as they swayed to a somber tune. When she lifted her head and opened her eyes, they were a **deep gray, like stormy skies**, and filled with affection._

_ It was quicker than a blink. When he glanced back at her, she had changed, her smile almost demonic. The other party members in the room, stared at him, their expressions almost blank. He backed up, hitting into another person who pushed him to the ground, pressing it's hand down on the side of his face. The person dug it's fingernails into Jem's skin, creating crescent shaped gashes._

Jem's father was slumped in his chair, his head twitching weakly. Ke Wen still fought, her face bloodied. "Jian! Jian!" She screamed for Jem before collapsing into a hopeless fit of sobs.

_Jem was back in the institute, walking through the hallways to his room. Clicking his door closed, he grabbed a dagger from his dresser, spinning it in his hand. As he paced in his room, listening to the echo of his footsteps, he eyed the box on his mantelpiece._

_Tossing the dagger onto his bed, he grabbed the box and sat down. On the lid was his initials, a big J.C. carved near the top. Opening it, he expected to see the jade pendant, where he always kept it. Instead, there was a small mirror. Reaching in, he held the mirror delicately, fearing it would break if he held it too firmly. There wasn't anything abnormal about the mirror, but his reflection. His jet black hair slowly faded into a **metallic silver, like a shiny coin**. His cheekbones seemed more prominent, and he looked older. There was something about his reflection that felt wrong, like a sickness._

The next time Jem gained consciousness, the screaming had stopped. His mother and father were both lying on the ground, blood pooling around them. Clenching his hands so they did not shake, he tried to look away, he tried to block the pain, but it was too much. Letting out an angry screech, Jem jerked in his seat. He toppled over, his hands pinned painfully underneath him.

Suddenly, he was upright in his chair again, fingers brushing lightly against his wrists. Wriggling his hands, he realized he was free from the string that had cut into his hands. Soon, he was standing, looking around feverishly. Blurred shapes and voices swirled around him, asking him questions and keeping him steady.

A bolt of pain seared his arm. He looked at it, seeing black ichor that splattered and burned his skin. "What's this?" He slurred to no one in particular, stumbling as the world spinned around him. Then, as if something had pushed him, he crumpled to the ground, once again succumbing to his nightmares.

~~ooo~~

"Will he be alright?"

_That is to be discovered. His body is weak and still under the poison.  
__  
_"Did he have some of the drug already?"

_Yes. That is as much as we can do. Taking the drug will kill him slowly, but withdrawing from it will kill him faster._

Voices echoed in Jem's head as he fought for consciousness. He could hear the familiar whispers of the silent brothers, but did not know who the other person was. His head lolled to the side as he tried to move. Opening his eyes, he squinted in the bright light that shone down on him. Leaning over him was a middle aged woman, her hair tied up in a neat bun. Next to her was a silent brother, his hood drawn back from his head.

"Are they dead?" Jem murmured subconsciously, grasping at the blanket that was curled around them. He didn't hear the woman's answer, but deep in his mind, he knew that they didn't make it through. That he had been the lucky one, a 'blessing' that he considered to be a curse. He would have to live without his parents, his mentors, knowing that they died instead of he.

~~ooo~~

Jem wobbled precariously as he stood up, feeling lightheaded and nauseous. Holding onto the back of the bed, he slipped on a jacket. He was finally headed back to another institute. While he would have to go to the London institute rather than back to the Shanghai one, he was grateful for another opportunity at Shadowhunting.

Following the woman, who he had come to learn her name was Lysilla, he held his bags close to him as he stepped into the carriage. Lysilla climbed into the carriage after him and ordered the servant to start. The carriage started with a jerk as it led him on a path that would give him a new life, a new chance, and a new destiny.

**Authors Note: If I get enough likes and/or reviews I will continue this, but I require motivation. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

~~ooo~~

It had been the third day on the ship when Jem had noticed a change in his appearance. Already, his hair streaked with silver and his eyes were flecked with a light gray. He had lost weight, his cheekbones more prominent and his fingers slimmer. His thinness accentuated his height, making him look even taller.

The mundanes had given him rude, and curious glances, their eyes immediately going to his hair. Now, wherever Jem went, he always wore a hat to cover up the silver streaks. _Well, __ at least it's not gold._

Lysilla put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Your mother and father would be proud of you, Jem."

_Jem...hmm. That's not a bad nickname._

~~ooo~~

The carriage jerked to a stop in front of an enormous building. Removing his hat, Jem gathered his bags and opened the carriage door. Lysilla smiled at him encouragingly, but stayed put in the carriage. The air was cool and thick, moist with dense fog. It was less humid, though, than Shanghai, so the weather did not bother him. He looked around, staring at the cloudy sky and then to the expanse of the city that stretched before him.

"James?" A sweet voice said behind him. He turned around slowly to see a young woman, in her early 20's, with long, mousy brown hair tumbling down her back. He lifted his eyes from the ground to meet hers. By then, he was used to the staring, the bewilderment at his oddly colored hair.

"Just Jem...Ma'am?" He said, breaking the silence. Her eyes dropped from his hair to his eyes, smiling apologetically.

"I'm sorry. Oh, dear. Do call me Charlotte." The young woman said, putting her hand on his back to lead him into the institute. "Do come in." Charlotte led him up through a gate up a path where she opened an intricately carved door. That must have been the highlight of the institutes design structure because the inside was nothing like the Shanghai institute.

It wasn't drab, but it definitely wasn't a decorated as he was used to. The living room consisted of a rug and a few couches and armchairs, but nothing too ornate. Taking his bags, Charlotte led him to his room. Despite the peeling walls and the plainness of the institute, Jem was gracious of Charlotte for reaching out and trying to help him.

"Now follow me. There is someone you might want to meet." Charlotte turned around and paused. "He does have quite a sharp tongue. Don't get offended if he is not quite welcoming."

Jem followed her obediently down a hallway, and after what seemed like forever, she opened a door to a room. Standing in the doorway, Charlotte put her hand on her hips. Jem tried to peer over her shoulder, only managing to catch glimpses of a mess of black hair.

"What is it, Charlotte?" The boys voice cut through the air, his tone sour.

"I've been looking for you for hours," Charlotte scolded, though it was quite a large exaggeration. "Didn't you recall what I told you yesterday, that we were welcoming a new arrival to the Institute today?"

Charlotte moved to the side slightly, allowing Jem more room to see. In the middle of the room was a boy no older than he, with eyes luminously blue, like pansies, and black hair that stuck to his face with sweat.

"Oh, I remembered" The boy drew back his hand and threw a dagger, which landed on the very outside ring of the circle. "I just don't care"

Jem looked at the boy's expression, angry and distant, and couldn't help but think of him as foolish. The boy was behind on training, he was dreadfully terrible with throwing daggers. Jem snickered slightly under his breath at the blue-eyed boy.

Charlotte straightened her jaw in exasperation. "Will, you shall be polite." Turning around, she pushed Jem softly into the training room, her arms tense. "Don't mind Will; he's only moody. Will Herondale, may I introduce you to James Carstairs, of the Shanghai Institute."

"Jem," He said immediately. "Everyone calls me Jem." He took another step inside, inspecting the room. Then his gaze traveled up and down Will, looking at him in curiosity. The boy, not to his surprise, did not have his first marks. After all, Jem had gotten his quite early, well, earlier than most.

"Well, if everyone calls you that, it's hardly any special favor to me, is it?" Will spat out his words with a deep scowl, crossing his arms. "I think you will find, James Carstairs, that if you keep to yourself and let me alone, it will be the best outcome for both of us." Will looked at him defiantly, hoping that with enough acid in his eyes, Jem would turn away and leave him alone.

But Jem just smiled, a small crooked one, almost understanding the caustic boy that stood before him. "I haven't trained since I left Shanghai," Jem reasoned, raising an eyebrow. "I could use a partner—someone to spar with."

**"**So could I," said Will. "But I need someone who can keep up with me, not some sickly creature that looks as if he's doddering off to the grave. Although I suppose you might be useful for target practice." Every word was enunciated, directed towards Jem to hurt him. Charlotte sucked in a sharp breath of air, surprised at Will's cruel choice of words. She opened her mouth to quiet Will when she saw that Jem was still unfazed.

"If by 'doddering off to the grave' you mean dying, then I am," Jem shrugged placidly. "I have about two years more to live, three if I am lucky, or so they tell me."

Will looked taken aback, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I …"

Jem was already across the room, his hand wrapped firmly around the dagger that was in the outer ring of the target. Yanking on the hilt, it popped free from the wood. Strolling over to Will, he looked straight into his eyes.

"You may use me for target practice if you wish," said Jem, shrugging again, keeping Will's gaze. "It seems to me I have little to fear from such an exercise, as you are not a very good shot." He broke his stare and turned towards the target. Drawing his arm back, he flicked his wrist, letting the dagger fly. Whistling through the air, the dagger stuck in the center of the target, it's blade barely visible. "Or," Jem went on, turning back to Will, "you could allow me to teach you. For I am a very good shot."

Will widened his blue eyes slightly, his hatred and anger fleeing from his expression like the morning fog. Fidgeting slightly, he furrowed his eyebrows. "You are not really dying," Will said hesitantly, his eyes round with shock. "Are you?"

Jem looked at him inquisitively, not knowing what to make of Will's sudden tone of voice. "So they tell me."

Will flushed an even darker red, stuttering. It was clear sympathy was one of the many things he struggled with."I am sorry..."

"No," Jem said, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. Behind the wall of anger this young boy fenced himself behind, he could see Will, a person just like him. Pushing the front of his jacket to the side, he pulled out a dagger, his special one. Rubbing his thumb over the silver designs, he turned the dagger around so he was gripping the blade. "Don't be ordinary like that. Don't say you're sorry. Say you'll train with me."

Will quivered slightly, looking at the outstretched hilt. He didn't know what to say to the boy in front of him. He was as delicate as ice, with his pale skin, thin frame, and silvering hair, but there was something about him that made him seem strong. Strong like Sydney Carton from Tale of Two Cities, like Apollo from The Odyssey...strong like his sister Ella. _The curse! _Will thought frantically to himself, pushing back any sympathy for the silver boy, but something inside of him that couldn't refuse his offer.

Maybe, he could be a training partner...a friend. Reaching out, Will pressed his fingers over the hilt of the dagger. Jem loosened his grip as the dagger slid out of his hand, into the other boys. Still looking tentatively into his eyes, Will lowered the dagger by his side.

"I'll train with you."


	4. Chapter 4

Will kicked the wall angrily, wincing as his boot collided with the hard wood. Sitting patiently in the middle of the room, Jem spun a dagger on the floor.

"Are you ready to try again?" Jem asked patiently as Will hobbled over, limping slightly.

"I don't feel like doing this." Will whined childlishly, falling carelessly on the floor beside him. He pancaked on his back, his arms and legs stretched out. "You're a terrible teacher."

"That's only because you won't let me show you." Jem pointed out, sliding the dagger across the floor to Will's feet. "If you let me show you-"

"Show off, you mean?" Will spat, clearly exasperated. "It's been over two months already. I'm almost twelve!"

"Patience, Will." Jem sighed, pulling him up from the ground. Despite his slightness, he was strong, easily lifting Will up onto his feet. Picking the dagger up from the floor to shove it in Will's hand, he gestured for Will to throw it. Drawing his arm back, Will jerked his arm forward, sending the dagger inches away from the outer rings.

"See! Your teaching skills, if there are any, aren't working." Will pushed hair out of his face, his cheeks flushed with heat. Jem turned to face Will, his silver eyes boring holes into Will's.

"Do you want to learn or not?"

"I do, but-"

"Good." Jem interrupted, pulling a dagger from his pocket. He fixed his stance, his hand parallel to his shoulder. With a subtle flick, the dagger soared across the room, piercing the target squarely in the middle. "Now, when you throw, it's all in the wrist unless it's longer distance." Yanking the daggers out of the wood, he stood behind Will, putting a dagger in his right hand. Putting his hands on the other boy's shoulders, Jem moved him into the dagger throwing stance.

"What next?" Will asked, turning his head slightly.

"Just flick your wrist in the direction of the target and let the dagger go. The more you do it, the easier it will become." Jem encouraged him, nudging his shoulder slightly. Will narrowed his eyes, focusing on the target, and let the dagger fly. It pierced the second ring in, which in Jem's eyes, was a great improvement compared to Will's dagger throwing skills before he came.

"Finally." Will said, his expression just a shade less sour.

"Good job! See, I told you-" Jem doubled over, fits of coughs racking through his thin body. His shoulders heaved as blood splattered the floor. Will looked at him in sudden fear, sudden sympathy, running out of the room to fetch Charlotte.

"Jem!" Jem! Are you okay?" Charlotte asked frantically, pulling Jem from off the floor. He nodded slightly, his mouth stained with blood and his eyes half-lidded. "Come with me." Jem tried to stand up to follow her, but as his vision clouded with red, he leaned against the wall to support himself. Charlotte peeled him off the wall, her arm around him so he wouldn't crumple to the ground.

Blinking blearily as bright light filtered through the spotless windows of his bedroom, Jem fumbled weakly for his box. Charlotte grabbed an old cup of water from his nightstand, pouring a small amount of the Yin Fen into the water. Pushing it into Jem's hand, he raised it to his lips, sipping it. Almost instantly, his eyes brightened, and he no longer needed her support. And yet, while the drug made him stronger, it was killing him slowly everyday.

~~ooo~~

"Are you okay?" Will asked before adding another hasty remark. "Not...that I care or anything."

"I'm fine." Jem waved his hand dismissively, shifting himself on his bedroom floor.

"But you look terrible." Will's tone was almost concerned, but clipped. "Are you always this ghastly?"

"I'm charmed, William." Jem said, smiling crookedly.

"Pleasure." Will got up from the floor, walking slowly towards the door, glancing back once before shutting the door behind him. Jem crawled into his bed, clutching his arms against his chest. Suddenly, his eyes felt heavy and his vision blurred, drifting him into unconsciousness.

_His mother and father ran over to greet Jem. Stepping out of the carriage, Jem welcomed their embrace with open arms. The humidity of Shanghai made it hard to breath, and the wet mud that oozed under his shoes soaked his soles, but he didn't care._

_He was with his family at last._

_Walking up the steps into the Shanghai institute, he twisted open the door, his parents following him inside. Hui Ying greeted him with kind words, sitting him down on the couch. Glancing down the hall, Jem squinted, something dark running down the walls._

_Blood as thick as demon ichor oozed out of the cracks, drenching the floors. When he turned back, his parents were gone, along with Hui Ying. The blood was at his knees, making it hard to move as it swirled around him. Struggling in the blood pool that had quickly reached his chest, he was pulled under, choking and sputtering. _

_Blinking open his eyes, all he could see was black and red swirling around. Then somewhere, in the dark, a malicious smile glinted white, coal hot eyes staring back at him._

Jem woke up screaming, his hair pasted to his head with sweat and his shirt stuck to his shoulder blades. Flinging off the covers, he laid back, panting as if he had been running for a great while. He would do anything, anything, for dreamless sleep, without the nightmares of torment marring his nights.

Outside his door, he could hear footsteps, probably Will, standing at his door. The doorknob turned hesitantly before springing back in place as the footsteps retreated. _That boy. So unusual, so peculiar._ Jem thought curiously. _Then again, I am not more normal than he, but he is hiding something...something dark...and he has built a wall to protect himself..._


	5. Chapter 5

Walking slowly to the training room, Jem held his breath in anxiety. Will had been avoiding him ever since his last coughing fit, but he didn't blame him. After all, when Jem looked in the mirror, he realized how different he looked. His once ink black hair was a metallic silver, like a shiny coin. His brown eyes were almost entirely silver, making his pupils stand out like ink on paper. Cheekbones and collarbones like knives angled his face and neck, his shoulders thin and sharp.

_Would my parents recognize me if they were still alive? _Jem thought silently as he pushed open the training room door. Will jerked around, surprised at Jem's sudden entrance. A dagger hung loosely in one hand while several others littered the floor near the target.

"What are you doing here?" Will spat, his jaw set in a grim line. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

"I'm a Shadowhunter, am I not?" Jem said calmly, stooping to pick up a dagger from the floor. "I must train like you."

"Fine." Will muttered, resigned. "But if you keel over, it's your fault."

"Why wouldn't it be mine?" Jem asked, raising an eyebrow. Rolling his eyes, Will drew his arm back, throwing the dagger at the target. It bounced off the wood, skittering across the scarred floor.

Sighing in frustration, Will bent down to collect the daggers that had dropped on the ground. Gripping the blade angrily, he stormed into the middle of the room.

"It seems you have gotten worse, are you actually trying?" Jem commented, fiddling with the dagger in his hand.

"I don't care. It's useless! I-" Will dropped the dagger, yelping in pain and shock. His grip on the blade had dug the dagger into his hand, a long gash running across his palm. Small drops of blood dripped on the ground, running off his hand. Jem was instantly at his side, his eyes mutely sympathetic. Wrapping his fingers around Will's wrist, he pulled him gently out of the training room.

"Here." Jem said, handing Will a small, linen washcloth. Will hissed in pain as he pressed the cloth to his palm, watching as the white linen turned a dark red.

"Can't I have an iratze?" Will whined as Jem wrapped his hand in a bandage.

"You haven't had your first marks yet. You know how it works." Jem said, pinning the bandage in place. When he lifted his head, he was grinning slightly, his eyes a bright silver.

"What's so funny?"

"You." Jem remarked. "It's just that you are kind of an idiot."

Will pinched his lips together in a tight look of displeasure. Jem shrugged placidly before ushering Will out of the hallway. The gash in his hand barely hurt now, thanks to the bandage that wrapped it tightly.

"Thanks." Will whispered as if he did not want anyone to know he was showing gratitude. Jem just smiled slightly and nodded.

~~ooo~~

"So Granville Fairchild is the institute leader...and Charlotte is his daughter?"

"Yeah...Its a boring life." Will said, resting his head on his hand. The crackling of the fire near them was warm and comforting, which was a rare occurrence in a place as bleak as London.

"And then you're getting your first marks in a fortnight...right?"

"Right."

"But what about your parents? Do you have any siblings?" Jem asked, his eyes lit with curiosity.

Will drew back suddenly, his eyes sharp with grief. His expression quickly faded into a look of annoyance. "It doesn't matter anymore. What about you? Where are you from?"

"Shanghai." The corners of Jem's mouth twitched in happy recollection of his home.

"That's China, isn't it? It's funny how you don't have a Chinese accent. You miss it?"

"Mmmhmm."

"What's it like?"

"Sometimes it's cold. Sometimes it's hot...but it is always humid." Jem wrinkled his nose, shifting his elbows on the floor. Will rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Why are you sick?" Will blurted out suddenly. Immediately, he felt a little bit guilty for reopening a fresh wound. Jem's expression had hardly changed, his legs still waving behind him.

"Yanluo. He injected me with demon blood, torturing me in front of my parents." Jem's voice was ragged, as if he had trouble breathing. His arms seemed to stiffen with fear and anger. "It was awful. The nightmares, the burning, the screams-"

"James."

Jem waved his hand dismissively at Will's concerned tone, though his body was still frigid. "My body is dependent on the drug. Taking it kills me, but not taking it kills me even faster. I would rather die later than now if I still have a chance for a cure."

"Oh."

"That's why I get sick during training. When I don't have enough of the drug...medicine, I feel weak and I start to bleed inside." Jem said nonchalantly, ignoring Will's look of utter disgust. His face had gone a sickly pale shade of green, his mouth half open.

"Oh." Will sat up, his hair sticking straight up in all directions. "When did you get your marks?"

"About six months ago."

"Six months!" Will exclaimed, obviously surprised. "I'm about your age! Why haven't I gotten them yet?"

"I'm three months older than you, Will. Plus, you are getting yours soon." Jem looked at him amusedly at his bewilderment. "It's not _that_ amazing. It's just the silent brothers burning them into your skin."

Will looked at him with a twisted expression of subtle fear. "Does it hurt?"

"Sort of...my parents were there when I got them so I felt better. I got to pick who I wanted to accompany while I got my marks."

"My parents won't be there." Will murmured, his head lowered in sorrow. "James?"

"William?"

"Will you be there for me?"


	6. Chapter 6

Jem stood in the corner of the room opposite of Charlotte as the silent brothers entered. Their hoods were drawn over their scarred faces as they approached Will. His face was as hard as stone, holding a brave expression as they reached for his arm.

_William Herondale. You are now of age._ _It is time for the first Marks of the Angels to be bestowed on you. Are you aware of the honor being done you, and will you do all in your power to be worthy of it? _

Will held his chin high, his blue eyes blazing with determination. "I will."

_And do you accept these Marks of the Angel, which will be scarred on your body forever, a reminder to you of all you owe the Angel, and of your sacred duty to this world?_

"I do." Will held Jem's gaze with the utmost concentration as the silent brother pulled a stele from the folds of his robes. At first, there was nothing. Just the pressure of dull point pressing into his skin. Then, a slight burning sensation started to surface. Lines as black as ink swirled on his arm like lacework. Jem glanced instinctively down at his arm, where he had added more runes in addition to the ones the silent brothers gave him.

Agility. Angelic power. Clairvoyant sight. Strength. Equilibrium. Runes like sleeves decorated Jem's arm, shadowed slightly by the scars of old runes underneath. Jem jerked his head up when he heard a yelp. Will, who had been so excited to get his first marks, walked straight into a low hanging candle holder, thus knocking him down. Jem grinned in amusement as Will rubbed his head while scowling, obviously embarrassed.

The silent brothers left the room as silently as they came, their robes rustling almost inaudibly. Charlotte said something to Will, which deepened his scowl even further. When she followed the silent brothers out, Will gave Jem a small smile, holding up his arm to show Jem.

~~ooo~~

"Will?" Jem called, poking his head into the training room. Still not there. "Will? Will? William?" Jem walked down the hall, even stopping at his room to see if Will had 'invaded' it. He reached the library with it's towering expanse of books. Bookshelves lined the walls with all assortments of books, from A Tale of Two Cities to The Codex.

Walking down an isle, Jem saw a black mess of curls behind a shelf. "Will?"

"James!" Will jumped as Jem came into view. A stele was in his hand with a book propped up on his knee.

"William? What are you doing?"

"Nothing..." Will shrank back. _He's a terrible liar. What's he hiding?_

"Will! You know that's not safe!" Jem scolded as he spied the books inside pages. Different types of runes adorned the insides, each with a small label. Will's wrist had seared and swollen spots on it where he had attempted to draw runes.

"So? I'm just testing it out." Will reasoned, shrugging. Jem swooped forward, grabbing the stele and rune book from his lap.

"Testing out can be _dangerous_. Don't you get it?" Jem said, pulling Will out from his seat. "You don't know what could happen!"

"Why should you care?"

"I'm not going to let someone meddle with dangerous magic." Jem said, stalking Will to his room.

~~ooo~~

"Hold still!" Jem hissed through his teeth, as he focused on drawing the rune. Will had insisted that if he did not help him draw a rune, he would attempt more in the night. Reluctantly, Jem had agreed.

"Can you go a little faster?"

"Do you want it to work or not? I'm almost done anyway." Jem finished the rune, pulling the stele back from Will's neck. He could not imagine a time where he had drawn a rune so immaculate, where it looked like perfect woven strands in a cloth. The Mnemosyne rune was stark black against Will's flushed skin, only lit by the subtle glow of the witchlight.

"I want to see it!" Will bounded off of the trunk at the end of Jem's bed over to his mirror. "I'm going to have perfect memory...right?"

"Umm." Jem scratched his head. "I think so. I mean, that's what the rune book says. I mean, your memory is already good enough."

"Must you spoil a good moment, James?" Will muttered, still looking at his neck.

"I think, time-wise, it would have been best-"

"'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity.'" Will quoted, brandishing an enormous smile. "A Tale of Two Cities... a frightfully terrible book...Too sentimental and romantic."

"That's great, now...I would like to go to sleep, so unless you want to sit here in the dark, I would suggest you go to bed as well."

"You are a dull soul." Will said, his face dropping in disappointment. "Excitement! Stealing from the chuckaways, raiding the Demon Parlor, cheating the old vendors out of their sales. You shall come with me on an adventure sometime, James."

"Maybe...Maybe never." Jem mumbled as Will left the room. He slipped under his sheets, his stele still gripped in his hand.

~~ooo~~

Jem yawned sleepily as he walked into the dining room. His vest was itchy and his trousers dug into his hipbone. Sitting down at the end, he poked at a piece of toast.

"William. What is on your neck?" Charlotte asked, turning away from her father to look at Will. Her mouth was upturned in a frown as she recognized the black lines of a rune.

"Nothing! It's none of your business." Will snapped before biting into a piece of ham.

"Did you draw that?" Charlotte barked. "William!"

Jem ducked as he felt his cheeks redden with guilt. He chewed slowly, looking at the napkin that balanced precariously on his knee.

"James?" Charlotte said calmly. Jem turned his head up to look at her, his ears hot with embarrassment. "Did you draw that?"

"Yes, Miss Fairchild." Jem said quietly. _Ah. Why do I get myself caught in Will's problems. _To Jem's surprise, she did not have an angry expression...she could never stay angry at him for long. Instead, she shook her head good naturedly.

"Oh, James. You can just call me Charlotte." She said kindly, though her words were clipped with agitation.

"Yes, Miss- I mean Charlotte." Jem and Will exchanged wide-eyed expressions before pushing in their chairs to go to the training room.


	7. Chapter 7

A dagger whistled through the air, finding it's mark on the outer rings of the target. Will sighed, his shoulders drooping. Jem sat in the corner of the room, pressing his fingers to his head as the world seemed to blur around him.

Drawing his arm back again, Will flicked his wrist. This time, the dagger landed in the third ring in. Which, considering there were 8 rings, was an improvement. Jem offered Will a small smile as he glanced back. Dagger after dagger, Will drew his arm back and let them fly, almost all of them hitting the target.

Standing up, Jem balanced himself as the world spun around him. "William."

"Jem?" Will turned around, a dagger still gripped tightly in his hand.

"Will. Please. Please...help me to my room." Jem whispered, trying not to let Will hear the panic that was rising in his voice. He gritted his teeth as he leaned weakly against the wall, fearful that his legs would give out on him. Dropping his dagger, Will was at Jem's side, slinging Jem's arm over his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Will asked. Jem had a moment to marvel at Will's expression. His voice like knives and a mindset like ice had dulled and melted, leaving a mere boy of 12 in its place. Will's eyes, so blue and so violet at the same time, were wide with fear for Jem. A sharp pain pulled Jem out of his trance,

"Yes...I need to get to my room..." Jem coughed slightly, a thin line of blood dripping from his mouth. Will quickened his pace, half-dragging Jem through the hallways. Taking a ragged gasp, Jem could feel blood rise in the back of his throat. Jem dropped to his knees, retching up blood on the wooden floor. His nails scratched at the ground as he fought to get up, Will's hands tugging at the back of his vest.

"Get up, you idiot!" Will hissed through his teeth, his voice edged with desperation. "James!"

Jem felt the edges of his vision turn black, the ground beneath him disappear as if he were floating on air. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear Charlotte calling his name frantically, feel the strong grip of hands pulling him into the bed, taste the sickly sweet drug of the Yin Fen being forced down his throat. Then his eyes rolled back and there was nothing.

~~ooo~~

"James?" Will said tentatively, walking into Jem's bedroom. "Charlotte said I could come in for a few minutes."

Jem rolled over on his side, opening one eye to look at Will. Sitting up slightly, he pushed a mess of silver hair from his face. "Good evening."

"Evening." Will pulled a chair from the corner of the room and set it by Jem's bed. "Are you still sick?"

"I'm always sick. But the pain is gone and I feel better. So I don't feel as sick." Jem said, shrugging under the covers. His fingers fiddled absentmindedly at the edge of the pillow, the fabric twisted in his hands. "It is different here, though. In Shanghai, whenever we got hurt, we were never allowed visitors, but the servant would always bring you extra cups of tea."

"Tea? That's it?" Will scoffed.

"Just tea. Green tea with the little leaves that unfurl when you put them in water." Jem said, reminiscing. "It was a small comfort, but was nice to have."

"You miss it there a lot." Will commented, his hand in his pocket. When he drew it out, something small was in the palm of his hand. "I got you something."

Will hesitantly slipped the object into Jem's hand. Jem held it up, squinting in the pale shine of the witchlight. It was a necklace, with a carved stone at the end of it. _Will, _he suspected at first glance_, probably got this for me because it is in the shape of a fist._ But when Jem looked closer, he realized that the fist was a greenish-white color. Jade. Jade that came from China, from his birthplace.

The fist in itself signified strength...Perhaps Will thought of Jem as strong, not just physically, but mentally as well. Despite the fist aspect of the necklace, the jade symbolized his home. Jem choked down a small cry in memory of his parents, the institute, and his old home. While a small piece of jade was not much of a consolation to most, Will had brought a piece of his home to Jem.

"Thank you, Will." Jem said, putting his hand over Will's. "I really mean it. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Mmhmm." Will flushed a light pink, embarrassed that he had done something kind.

Pulling his hand off of Will's, Jem studied the jade fist closer...Jade was expensive, especially high quality jade like this. "William, where did you get this?"

"Does it matter?" Will raised an eyebrow, staring at Jem.

"Did you steal it?"

"So what if I did?" Will smirked slightly, his black hair curling around his temples. "It was right there...How could I resist?"

"Why did you steal it?"

"You're my friend." Friend...Such a casual term, but it felt so foreign on Will's tongue. After leaving his family, he tried to push people away, and yet, Jem was different. He, to Will's horror, understood Will and his ways. Never did Will think he would find such a person in his life.

Jem smiled crookedly, his silver hair pasted to his forehead with sweat. "Thank you, Will."

"You already said that." Will pointed out. Jem just shut his eyes halfway, his eyelashes like silk against his skin.

"It's very important." Jem murmured, rolling back over, the jade fist still clutched to his chest. By the time Will had left the room and closed the door, Jem was already asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**~~~Five Months Later~~~**

"Aren't you almost 13?" Will asked as he and Jem strolled down the street. Moist air as thick as dust swirled around them, causing their hair to curl in the humidity. Vendors on the side of the road called out to them, trying to sell their goods.

"Yes."

"And you still haven't gone on your first demon hunt?" Will inquired as they turned the corner. Jem paused, standing in a small puddle. He kicked at it, sending a spray of water into the street.

"I was supposed to." He said quietly before walking forward again.

"And what? You chickened out?" Will teased.

"My parents died."

"Oh." Will felt his cheeks burn with self consciousness as they neared the end of the street. He put his hand on his head to hold his hat in place as a breeze swept through the air. It stank of rotting meat and sickness, that was no surprise. After all, they were only a couple blocks away from the East Slums.

"Will, we should get back to the institute." Jem cautioned, tugging on Will's sleeve. "We are scarcely armed if we do come across a demon or angry Downworlder."

Will rolled his eyes and kept walking. "I have a couple of daggers and a seraph blade. We have enough." He turned a corner into a dark alleyway. "I come here all the time anyway."

"William."

"Fine!" Will muttered, turning around. Jem was slightly surprised that Will had listened. Then again, everything about Will was equally startling.

"So, is Charlotte going to get married to Mr. Branwell?" Jem asked, changing the subject.

Will shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Why?"

"I just always see him around. I was just wondering. I know that he has tried to help you in the past with your training."

"You could always ask Charlotte to stop training because you get sick when you do. You already have respect."

"I would never. It's in my blood." Jem smiled bitterly. "There's no glory in being sick. Or dying, for that matter."

"There is always a cure though. You could look." Will suggested as they rounded another turn, close to the institute.

"Isn't it nice to think so?" Jem glanced at Will with a bittersweet look of hopelessness. A nearby vendor called out to them, waving it's hat in the air.

"Little Nephilim. How about a hat for you? 2 pence a hat." The old woman called, her voice like sandpaper. Jem and Will exchanged confused looks. Looking down, Jem could see the glamour rune was still in effect.

"How do you know who we are?" Will spat, his blue eyes blazing. The old woman just grinned, her teeth like knives, hissing slightly.

"Will! Back up! That's not a mundane, its an Elapid." Jem shouted, his voice rising in panic. The 'woman' leapt over her cart, scattering hats across the street. Her skin peeled back, forming an enormous demon. Her head flattened into one of a cobra, spitting venom. It's body stretched out with numerous numbers of legs each ending in claws lined her sides. Skittering forward, Jem pulled Will by the back of his collar before the demon had the chance to bit them.

Jem panted as they ran down the street, the thundering sound of the Elapid chasing after them. Turning around, Jem threw a dagger, hitting it in the demon's eye. For a moment, the demon slowed, screeching in pain, before resuming the chase. Will stumbled, his boot catching on a hook in the rock ground. Catching Will as he fell, Jem pulled the seraph blade from off Will's back and waved it at the demon.

Lunging forward, the Elapid snapped it's fangs by Jem's head. He ducked, slashing with the blade. Squealing as the edge of the blade sliced it's beetlike arm, the demon shrank back, it's claws scratching and sliding on the damp ground. Stabbing it with all of his strength, Jem drove the blade into the demon's chest. Ichor spurted wildly from the wound as it faded, leaving small ashes and black liquid in it's place.

Hissing in pain as the ichor burned his fingertips, Jem wiped off his hands on his filthy vest. Will pushed himself off from the ground, his blue eyes enormous.

~~ooo~~

"Do I look okay?" Jem whispered as they neared the institute. "You can't see the iratze, right?"

"Nope. It's hidden under your sleeve. Is my face still dirty?"

"When is your face ever clean?"

"Oh...right." Will grinned as he brushed off his trousers. Opening the institute door, they crept inside.

"James? William?" Charlotte called from the living room. Her hands were on her hips, looking pale with worry. "Where were you?"

"We got food from the bakery." Jem lied, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "We got hungry and adventurous."

"Yeah. We're full...you know." Will said, fiddling with the bottom of his jacket.

"Then I'm sure you guys don't need dinner. Go get yourselves cleaned up and to bed."

"What?" Will exclaimed.

"Yes, Charlotte." Jem said through gritted teeth, pulling Will down the hallway. "You are going to give us away!"

"And you're going to make me miss dinner!" Will argued, his mouth pulled down in a scowl. "I'm hungry!"

"Agatha never stays in the kitchen the whole night." Jem pointed out as they walked towards their rooms.

"How is that-" Will cut off his sentence and turned to Jem. They exchanged mischievous smiles. "I see."

"By the Angel, you're a bad influence." Jem scolded Will, though his shining expression belied his words. "Just don't get caught, okay, because then Charlotte and Agatha will be mad."

"Me? William Herondale, caught?" Will scoffed, pushing a lock of black hair out of his face. "As if."

"Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

~~ooo~~

The next morning, when Agatha asked where her fresh batch of small cakes had gone, Jem and Will just stared at their plate of food and grinned.


	9. Chapter 9

"Happy birthday, James."

"Thanks."

"Are you going to do anything cool?"

Jem gave Will a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"You know, it's your birthday. Don't you ever do anything special?" Will asked, tapping his fingers on the floor. "When I was at my home, we always had small presents and nice dinners."

"I grew up in an institute. We don't do things like that." Jem explained, leaning back in his chair.

"Say something in mandarin." Will said suddenly, pushing hair out of his face.

"_Shēngrì kuàilè._" Jem said, his voice falling and rising rapidly in a string of foreign words.

"And that means?" Will asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Happy birthday."

"I guess that suits the occasion."

"Yeah. I guess so." Jem looked at the fireplace in the room, feeling the warm heat of the flames. They were blue at the bottoms and had a strange likeness to the color of Will's eyes, not quite blue but not quiet violet. Jem turned back to Will, fiddling with the violin on his lap. His fingers ran absentmindedly across the newly rosined strings, plucking random notes.

"Can you play something?"

The edge of Jem's mouth pulled up slightly. "What song?"

"Anything." Will sat up,, pulling his knees close to his chest.

"Anything?" Jem's mouth twitched upward. "How about 'Dance of the Blessed Spirits'?"

"Sure."

"Okay." Again, the mouth quirk. Jem took deep breath, positioning his violin by his throat. The bow was gripped firmly but delicately in his hand, placed on the strings of the violin. His eyes were closed, and his fingers quick, sliding the bow over the strings. It was the music of angels, echoing through the room. Notes as pure as water flowed from the violin, mournful and steady. His mouth was pressed tight in concentration as if he were in pain, but when he put down the violin, he was grinning.

Will had never been one for such melancholy styles of music, but when he realized that when he listened, he could see a story. Not like his books where you learn the beginning, middle and end, but bits and pieces of different tales were told. Will saw a family torn apart, tears of happiness, and ones of sadness. He could see Jem's soul, shining through the sorrowful notes, and he saw his sister.

Will set his jaw and looked up at Jem, letting out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. "That was amazing." He breathed, his eyes glowing softly in the firelight.

"_Xièxiè._"

"What?"

"Thank you." Jem put his violin down on the armchair and sank down to the floor. "That means a lot to me."

"I wish I had gotten you a gift."

"You did." Jem smiled, putting his hand on Will's shoulder. "It makes me happy when people listen to my music. Happiness. That what life is really about, isn't it? Not expensive jewels or not dying, but living it to the fullest."

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

Will his head frantically, biting his lip. "Never mind."

"Okay."

Will looked at Jem in confusion. Normally, people would press Will to say what he was thinking...of course that had been when his father forced him to say where he had hidden Cecily's dolls, but this was different. Jem didn't press for answers, and maybe that's why Will liked him.

"Can we practice daggers tomorrow?"

Jem nodded, his hair falling in his face. "Sure. After breakfast?"

"Can we do it after lunch?"

"Yeah. That's fine. Are you still reading that one book...what was it called?"

"The Odyssey. It's Greek mythology. You should read it sometime."

"I've never been one for books, but I'll try it sometime." Jem looked up, blowing a puff of air at the hair that veiled his face.

"Mmhmm. Like you'll ever end up reading it. You're as slow as a slug when reading books." Will teased, rolling his eyes. Jem ducked his head into his knees, snickering. "That wasn't meant to be a joke."

"I know, but it's still funny."

"If I were half as funny as you think I am, I'd still be twice as funny as I am now...rendering me pretty hilarious indeed."

"Don't flatter yourself, William. You're only funny when you think you're not." Jem rested his head on the armchair, tracing the black runes that laced his arm. He looked closely at his faded mendelim rune that had helped glamour him and Will a few weeks before.

"Charlotte threw a fit when she saw the runes I tried to draw on my arm." Will scowled, though his eyes were still bright with amusement.

"She loves you as if you were her brother or son...I don't know. But you push her away with hatred. Why?" Jem asked lightly, his voice riddled with curiosity. Will jerked away as if he had been hit, his eyes widening.

"I can't tell you that." He muttered, furrowing his eyebrows. "I better go. It's getting late." He stood up and walked over to the bedroom doorway.

"Dagger practice tomorrow after lunch, remember?" Jem reminded him.

"Yeah. I'll remember...Okay. Goodnight." Will shut the door without much care causing the slamming noise to reverberate in the wooden frame of the institute. Standing up, Jem took one glance at the fire before twisting open the door and walking down the hallway.

Compared to the room they were just in, it was freezing, but then again, it was always cold. Finally reaching his room, Jem stepped inside, pushing the door closed behind him. Beginning to feel slightly dizzy as he walked over to his bed, he reached for a glass of the Yin Fen water. It was cloyingly sweet, but bitter, making the insides of his mouth numb. Crawling into his bed, his eyes were half-lidded with exhaustion.

_Oh, I forgot my violin! _Jem thought, snapping his eyes open. _Oh well, I'll get it tomorrow...what could possibly happen?_


	10. Chapter 10

Jem sighed in frustration as he wrenched at the violin strings, desperately trying to loosen the strings. Since he had forgotten to take his violin out of the room he and Will were in the night before, the heat from the fireplace had put it awfully out of tune. He plucked one of the strings, wincing as a garbled note came out, not quite a D, but not quite a C.

He had never been so reckless with his possessions. His violin was one of the few things he had kept from China, and he had left it in the room. _I'm such a fool! I shuld have just gotten it when I remembered!_ Jem scolded himself as he gave the strings more slack. His face was pinched in exasperation as he mentally bashed himself for his carelessness.

"Jem?" A voice came from the door.

"What?" Jem snapped, still focused on the violin.

"Aren't you going to come train?"

"I'll be there Will." Jem tossed the violin on his bed before stalking outside of his room. He walked quietly to the training room, his hands stuffed in his pocket. Will was already in the middle of the room, a dagger in his hand. Pulling back his arm, he threw the dagger, which landed on the very outside ring.

"You are still throwing it wrong!" Jem muttered under his breath, crossing his arms. He sat down on the wood floors, running his fingers across the cracks and small worn away patches where generation after generation of Shadowhunters had stood. "You would think that about a year of teaching you would finally get into your mind."

"It's not easy, especially for someone like me. I wasn't raised like you, okay?" Will said, his eyes blazing with annoyance.

"I'm sick, and I don't have any problems." Jem countered, raising his voice.

"You always told me that being sick didn't make you any different. Why should it be now?"

"Just throw the dagger." Jem's tone was firm and clipped. "You'll never learn if you don't try."

Will drew his arm back and threw with all his might, his anger sending the dagger into the wood of the institute walls. It stuck, quivering slightly, before falling to the ground with a clang. He kicked the wall angrily, his face drawn in a deep scowl.

"You always act superior to everyone. Is that because you are sick and feel like you deserve special attention?"

"I don't wallow in my sorrow for my health. In fact, you're the one who always lies for attention. You're hiding something, William. I can feel it."

"So?" Will shrugged. "Everyone hides things."

"But you're different. You treat everyone terribly, except for me. I don't want your pity!" Jem said, his silver eyes slits.

"So what if I'm rude. I don't care." Will slammed a dagger into the wall, pushing it as hard in as he could. "You don't know what I've been through!"

"I know that you are mean to Charlotte, you constantly lie, and you left your family!" Jem tried to stop himself, but the anger that was pent up inside of him broke, like a dam overflowing with water.

"My sister died!" Will shouted before blinking in surprise. He looked around, his shoulders hunched. "I didn't mean to say that."

"My parents were murdered, William." Jem breathed, anger still sharpening his voice. "We really aren't that different." If you could just tell-

"No." Will interrupted, his voice harsh. "I cannot tell you anything."

Jem sprang up, his feet set firmly on the ground. His hands were balled up into fists, his thin shoulders angular with rage. "That's because you are a lying coward who's-"

Jem yelped in pain, holding the side of his head. Will widened his eyes, his arm still in the air. Instantly, he regretted throwing the dagger. He was so sure he would miss... Blood dripped from a long gash that ran right above Jem's ear. His silver hair was matted with blood as it welled up on the wound. Hissing in pain, Jem stood up, clutching the side of his head.

"James! I'm sorry! I-" Will cut off his sentence, looking guiltily at Jem's wound. When Jem looked up, to Will's surprise, there was no anger. In fact, he was smiling.

"That was a good throw." Jem smiled, wincing slightly. He turned around, pulling the knife out the wall. He flicked his wrist and the dagger soared through the air, landing in the center of the target.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so angry." Will bit his lip in shame for slicing the side of Jem's head. Any normal person would be angry, would fight back or punish him...but then again, Jem wasn't just any normal person.

"That's okay. I'm not usually that temperamental."

"I know." Will walked up to Jem, looking at the gash on the side of his head.

"It was a pretty good throw. If it was just a little bit to the left, my brains would be on this dagger right now." Jem laughed, wiping blood off the dagger.

"James?" Will swallowed hard, his insides churning with anxiety.

Jem looked at him with worry, forgetting about the pain. "William? Is everything alright?"

"Be my parabatai."


	11. Chapter 11

"What?" Jem's face had gone white, his hand frozen against his bloodied head.

"Be my parabatai." Will repeated, his blue eyes blazing with anticipation.

"I can't Will, I should not...I couldn't." Each word was painful, pulled reluctantly out of Jem. He wanted nothing more than to say yes, but with his illness, it would not be fair. Still, Will's gaze was still strong, determination in every word.

"James. I never thought I would find someone to be my friend, much less my parabatai."

"William." Jem whispered, looking down at the floor. "I am honored, but I wish for more for you. I cannot be there like parabatai should, I will not live for much longer than 2 years, 3 if I'm lucky. If you have any heart, any hope for yourself, do not make such a commitment with someone like me."

"Someone like you? That's why I want you to be my parabatai. I don't care about your illness." Will sighed before glancing slyly in Jem's direction. "I challenge you."

"To what?" Jem looked up, his eyes gleaming.

"To a longsword fight. If I win, you become my parabatai. If I lose, which I sincerely doubt, you are free from my wrath."

"Your wrath? I really do despise your ways, Will." Jem smiled crookedly, his arms crossed. _What could possibly go wrong? _"I'll do it."

**~~ooo~~**

"You really could have gone easier on me." Jem groaned, rubbing his arm. "I didn't know you were going to be that wild."

Will just looked at Jem triumphantly, his black hair pasted to his forehead with sweat. He tossed his longsword to the side with a loud clang. Jem, limping and dirty, opened the training room door, gasping at the fresh, cool air. Jem was disappointed he didn't win, but mostly, he was scared. Scared that he would have to desert Will, and scared that he couldn't support him.

As Jem turned his head to look behind him, a stinging pain shot up Jem's head. The cut above his ear had opened again, probably because of his short, but intense battle with Will. Small beads of blood dripped down his face, staining the white cotton of his shirt.

"In Raziel's name, what happened to you, James?" Charlotte asked as they neared the living room. Her eyes were worried, her fingers tentatively sliding the matted hair from off Jem's cut. A tall man stood behind her, his hair like a flame, wild and unruly. Fiddling self consciously with his shirtsleeves, the man just stood in silence.

"Go away Charlotte. You're interrupting me and my future parabatai." Will snapped, glaring at Charlotte.

"Parabatai?" Charlotte echoed, drawing back. Her expression was mutely excited, glad that Will had finally found a friend...or a training target. She glanced in confusion from the large cut above Jem's ear, to the exasperated look on Will's face.

"Yes. What's so startling about that?" Will pulled Jem back, still scowling.

"You want to become parabatai?"

"That's what I just said. By the Angel, Charlotte. It's not like we are engaged or anything." Will scoffed, stalking towards his room with Jem's wrist gripped in his hand.

"Oh, I sure hope we are not engaged. I don't think you would be the best looking in a dress." Jem ducked down, hiding a grin that spread across his face. Will just rolled his eyes, shoving a damp cloth in Jem's hand. Drawing a stele from his pocket, Will pressed it into Jem's wrist.

"Hold still." Will gritted through his teeth as he drew an iratze. By then, he had become quite adept at drawing iratzes, mainly because he used them often.

"Who was that in the room?" Jem inquired with curiosity, pulling his arm back from Will's grasp.

"Charlottes fiancé, Henry. He's useless...And he set me on fire once." Will hissed. His face was sour with disgust as he crossed his arms.

"Do you like anyone here...Besides me?" Jem sat down on the edge of a chair, looking around at Will's room. He had scarcely been in Will's room since he came to the institute, and each time it seemed to get messier. Books were scattered across the floor, dirty weapons thrown carelessly across the floor, and old clothes draped over the end of his bed.

"Thomas is okay." Will shrugged placidly. "But he's a Mundie."

"Why do you hate Charlotte so much?"

"She worries too much. She acts like I'm a little kid and I'm not a child anymore-"

"Only kids say that." Jem interrupted, wiping the side of his head with the towel. He picked up a piece of paper off the ground, squinting to make out the scribbled handwriting. "This is awful. Still practicing your poetry?"

"Not practicing, perfecting." Will snatched the paper from Jem's hand, throwing it behind him. "I found it quite ethereal."

"You rhymed malicious with malicious 3 times and duck with duck 4 times. I think that hardly counts as poetry. You know I've never been one for poetry anyway."

"That's because you are busy with your musical things."

"William, if you haven't noticed, I have a great deal of admiration and respect for the violin. In fact, many people do...some more than me."

"That's not admiration, that's obsession." Will remarked, flicking a clod of dirt off his knee. Jem rolled his eyes. The corner of Jem's mouth twitched, a quirk Will quickly learned was his way of expressing amusement.

"Why did you ask me to be your parabatai?" Jem asked suddenly. Will looked at him in surprise.

"I don't know. I feel like I can trust you more than anyone else." Shrugging slightly, Will looked down at his hands, tapping them on the floor. "You understand me, though I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not...But you don't mind my impetuousness and my constant display of words of wisdom."

"Words of wisdom? I didn't know that such a thing existed in your vocabulary. If you have wisdom, that would be quite a surprise to me."

"Who do you think invented wisdom?" Will countered, flashing Jem a mischievous smile. "I always have words of wisdom at the ready."

"Oh really? Like what?"

"Never!" Will announced, smirking in the pale light. "Trust a duck."


	12. Chapter 12

"Hello Gabriel." Will smirked, his expression glinting with coldness. "Has the arm I broke healed up yet?"

Gabriel scowled, his green eyes burning with anger. Gideon put his hand on his brother's shoulder, but still glared at Will.

"Now, now William. You must be polite." Charlotte ordered, putting her hands on her hips. "They are our guests since the Lightwood home was broken into and set on fire by a horde of demons."

"Oh dear, was the naked statue of Aphrodite destroyed with it? How tragic." Will said in mock horror, ignoring the scathing look Charlotte shot in his direction. Jem raised his arm to cover a smile on his face, his shirtsleeve rough against his skin. Gabriel crossed his arms as Charlotte led them to their rooms which, of course, just had to be in the same hallway as Will and Jem's.

**~~ooo~~**

"Why does he have to be here?" Gabriel snarled as Will and Jem walked into the training room. A claymore was in his hand, his hand wrapped so firmly around it his knuckles were white. His sandy brown hair was sticking straight up, looking like he had been electrocuted.

"If you haven't noticed, this is the London Institute...where I live, not you. So I could ask you the same thing." Will shrugged, grabbing a dagger from the table. He drew his arm back and sent it soaring through the air, piercing the inner rings.

"William. Gabriel. You are acting like children." Gideon curled his lip at his brother, jabbing forward with his sword. Swinging to block the blow, Gabriel's sword collided with Gideon's, creating a shower of sparks. As Gabriel backed up, he hit into Will, who pushed him roughly in the back.

"_Allan o fy ffordd, dwp_!" (Out of my way, stupid.) Will snapped, his blue eyes blazing with rage. Jem put his hand on Will's shoulder, dragging him to the side of the room.

"Calm down, Will!" Jem hissed between his teeth. "You're making yourself look like a fool."

"I don't care. It's Gabriel!"

"I don't care if it's Gabriel, Gideon, or a duck, but respect is important."

"Respect?" Will scoffed, pointing at Gabriel. "I don't respect stupid, outlandish, repulsive, autolatry, krukolibidinous, ventripotent-"

"Will. You're not making any sense."

"Fine. Allow me to rephrase. I don't respect dumb, weird, self-worshipping, crotch-staring, fat people. Happy?"

"Crotch-staring?" Jem flushed, giving Will a puzzled look. "I don't think-"

"You never know. Lightwoods; you can never trust them." Will gave himself a self-satisfied smile, which made Jem's cheeks redden even more. He picked up a dagger that had been lying on the floor. Flicking his wrist, he sent it flying through the air into the center of the target.

"One day, I am sure I will beat you at daggers." Will said, raising an eyebrow. He picked up a wickedly sharp dagger he had just sharpened, and aimed it at the target. As he threw it forward, Gabriel moved in front of it, being forced back by Gideon's sword. Jem widened his eyes in horror as the dagger neared Gabriel's head. Ducking just in time, Gabriel managed to keep his face intact, though the dagger sheared off a chunk of his hair.

Will and Jem both covered their faces with their hands, turning away as they laughed hysterically. Jem tried to stop his laughing, for he should be mad at Will, but Gabriel's expression had been priceless. Gabriel leapt at Will, tackling him to the floor. They landed with a painful thump, narrowly missing the sword Gabriel was using.

Pushing down on Will's chest, Gabriel dug his fingers into Will's throat, creating red crescents. Will rolled over, pinning Gabriel beneath him as they tussled on the floor like wild alley cats. Gabriel swiped at Will's face, scratching a long cut near his eye. Bring his leg up with as much force as he could, Will drove his knee into Gabriel's stomach.

Grabbing Will by the back of the collar, Jem wrenched him off of Gabriel. Gideon was furious, his mouth pressed together in a grim line. Pulling Will out of the training room, Jem struggled to keep his hands on Will's flailing arms.

"Let me at him, let me at him, let me at him!" Will yelled, his face red with scratches. "Damn it, Jem. Let me at him-"

"Will!" Jem interrupted. "Pull yourself together! If Charlotte sees what you've done, you know she would throw a fit."

"I don't care what Charlotte would say. I want to fight him! I want to break his arm again! I want to smash in his face!" Will said loudly, his face lit up with rage. He tried to pull his arm from Jem's grasp, but he was too strong.

"William." Jem said, his voice soft in Will's ear. "I swear, if you go in there and fight Gabriel, I will force you to the floor and use a binding rune on your legs so you can't move. Then, I would force you to listen to hours upon hours of my music, got it?"

Will's face fell with disappointment, his breathing still fast. "I want to fight him! Plus, for the record, I don't hate your music, though binding runes are not the most comfortable things..."

Jem smiled, his expression eerily calm. "Or, I can give you an iratze and fix your scratches. Either one is fine with me."

"Fine!" Will narrowed his eyes and stomped to his room. Jem rolled his eyes, following Will to the messy pit...er...bedroom. Will took a stele from his dresser and handed it to Jem. Drawing a small iratze on Will's neck, the scratches on Will's face seemed to disappear.

"Better?"

"Better." Will sat in his chair, taking a piece of paper off a side table. "In the meantime, I made a few poems. Do you want to hear them?"

Jem sighed. "And have my ears bleed? No thanks, Will."


	13. Chapter 13

"Where are you going?" Will bounded up to Jem who was at the institute door.

"Out. I...I need to get something." Jem looked at the ground nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. He wrapped his hand around the doorknob, clicking it open. A cool breeze of fog swept past him, blurring the stars in the night sky.

"At this hour?" Will scoffed, pulling a dagger from the table. "Normally I'm the one to go out late. I'm coming with you."

"William, I need to do this alone."

"Where are you headed?"

"East."

"The slums? Oh! That makes things even more exciting." Will stepped outside, tousling his black hair with his hand. "I insist on coming with you."

"I don't like the thought of you coming...then again, I don't know the area that well and Charlotte won't come with me." Jem swallowed nervously, his silver hair shining in the moonlight. "We best be off before it gets too late." Turning his head in the direction of the carriage, he beckoned Will to come.

"Why is Thomas on the carriage with the servant?" Jem asked Will as they neared the bottom of the steps.

"He's training to be a chauffer since he is a mundane with the Sight." Will whispered, glancing up at Thomas. "I already told you that a couple weeks ago. Our current chauffer is from Spain and needs to get back as soon as Thomas is capable of handling his duties by himself."

Opening the carriage door, Jem stepped inside. It was dim with curtains that covered the windows, with a leather cover that fitted on the seats. Jem sat down, his palms sweaty with anxiety.

"What are we doing anyway?" Will inquired, stretching his legs across the seat. He leaned his head on the wall, yawning. "Why won't Charlotte go with you?"

"I'm running low on...you know, the stuff." Jem said hesitantly, his hair veiling his eyes. "Charlotte doesn't like going down there...and she didn't want to send someone else."

"Oh. Well, I know the area."

"Of course you do." Jem sighed, smiling crookedly. He braced himself as the carriage ground to a halt in front of what looked like a run down building. When he stared at it closely, the glamour faded like the London mist, revealing a lit tavern with all sorts of creatures inside. When Jem and Will exited the carriage, Jem could see faeries, warlocks, and ifrits sitting at the tables, obviously inebriated.

"This?" Will said incredulously, pointing to the tavern. "Is where you need to go?"

"Yes. Now be quiet and don't cause trouble." Jem whispered, opening the door. A warlock instantly shot a glance over at him, her hair tied up in a messy, black bun. Her dress, which was at least two times too small, looked almost suffocating. Will tried averted his eyes with no success as she leaned forward, her cleavage spilling over the top of her dress.

"What would two little Shadowhunters like yourselves be doing at a place like this?" She murmured, her lips pulled up in a smirk. Jem procured a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to the woman.

"Did she just call me little? I am nearly 14. I am not little!" Will muttered to Jem, who was still staring at the warlock.

"I have the money, I just need the drug." Jem said, gritting his teeth. The woman just turned around, gesturing for them to follow her. The building stunk of ale and fever and was coated in dust. Coughing slightly, Jem drew a ragged breath.

"Starting so soon on the hardcore drugs..." A drunken faerie called at Jem, his eyes bloodshot and his pale blue skin flushed with red. Will glared at the faerie and stood by Jem's side, as if to shield him from the curious buzz that ran through the tavern.

She stopped in the back of the room, the light of the candles barely reaching the corners. Pulling a packet of Yin Fen from a drawer, the woman held out her hand. "Payment?"

"Here, I'm pretty sure this is the correct amount." Jem set a bag of coins in her outstretched hand, flinching as she drove her hand into the bag, looking greedily at all the coins.

"Fair enough." She handed the packet to Jem before sitting down on the edge of a table to talk with some other warlocks. Jem tore his eyes her stare and hurried outside, his face flushed a dark red. Once they were in the carriage, Jem clenched the precious packet in his fist to keep it safe. Knocking on the roof, Will ushered the carriage on. It jolted forward, moving down the road up west, out of the slums.

"That wasn't that bad." Will remarked as they arrived at the institute. The air was frigid and especially misty, dampening the outside of Jem's vest as they got out of the carriage. Opening the institute door, Will instantly scowled with exasperation.

"Sneaking off, Will?" Gabriel sneered as Jem and Will walked into the main room. "You too, James?"

"We had errands to run." Will crossed his arms, smirking. "Do you like your new haircut, Gabriel?"

Picking up a book, Gabriel threw it at Will. Will ducked, the book sailing past his head. It hit Jem in the face with a loud smack, the book falling to the floor, and with it, the packet of Yin Fen. Jem rubbed the side of his head before realizing the packet had fallen on the ground. Gideon looked at it suspiciously.

"You went to buy demon poisons?" Gideon asked, looking at the Yin Fen. "Are you both addicts now?" Jem leaned down immediately, stooping to pick it up. His eyes were wide, for Gabriel and Gideon did not know about his illness.

"It's hard to explain." Jem stuttered, shrinking away.

"You know." Gabriel said placidly, leaning back in the couch. "The more you take of that, the faster you die. First comes the coughing, then the blood, and then your insides start to eat themselves and you die in the most horrible way. I didn't know, Jem, that you were stupid-"

"Shut up, you idiot." Will interrupted, his eyes flaring with anger. "Don't you ever talk to my friend like that."

"Will." Jem said, wrapping his thin fingers around Will's wrist. "Lets go." Will nodded but shot one last glare at Gabriel before following Jem to his room.

"You shouldn't get so worked up over Gabriel and Gideon." Jem said, pouring the Yin Fen into the silver box. "It gives them satisfaction that they get under your skin." Putting a small amount into a glass of water, he tossed the empty packet in a waste bin.

"I know." Will mumbled, though his hands were still in fists. He looked up at Jem, his eyes half closed. "Is that really going to happen...what Gabriel said?"

Jem took a sip of the water and shrugged. "I don't know, Will. I don't know."


	14. Chapter 14

Will's forced his eyes open, ignoring the exhaustion that threatened to drag him unconscious. His body was still aching from the day before, and sitting in the same position all night hadn't helped. But he wouldn't leave the room to eat or sleep in fear that he wouldn't be there if Jem needed him. He pulled his chair closer to Jem's bed, resting his head on the side.

Jem's hair was even brighter than normal, reflecting off the dull sunlight that filtered in the room. The shadows under his eyes were almost blue, and his cheeks flushed a splotchy red. Coughing weakly, Jem's shoulders heaved as blood splattered the white sheets in front of him. He wiped his mouth, smearing small drops of blood across his face.

"Are you okay?" Will asked, putting his elbows on the side of Jem's bed.

"I'm fine." Jem murmured sleepily, though a steady line of blood seeping from his mouth belied his words. "Training with Gabriel and Gideon yesterday just was rough. I didn't take any of the medicine that morning."

"But you took some eventually today?"

Jem pointed at a silvery cup on the nightstand, nodding. "You do make a dreadfully boring companion when I am sick, Will."

Will raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. "What am I supposed to do? Write a poem about you coughing up blood?"

"Just make it about anything...though all of your poems are always equally horrendous."

Will cleared his throat, a small smile forming on his lips.

"_William, oh dear Will,_  
_I shall await for you on your sill._  
_For you are gorgeous and demented,_  
_For one so deadly and tormented._  
_Your pick-up lines make me wail,_  
_For you are the amazing William Herondale."_

Jem wrinkled his nose, frowning as if he had just eaten something unsavory. "That was dreadful. All of your poems are, but that one was just awful."

"You did say to make it about anything." Will grinned, putting his arms serenely behind his head.

"Well, now what?"

"Wait, I have something." Will stuffed his hand in his pocket, drawing a deck of cards. "Charlotte left the drawing room door unattended...again."

"So you stole a deck of cards?" Shaking his head in amusement, Jem propped himself up on his bed. "I would say that cards would be a good distraction, but it has recently occurred to me, upon seeing the witches and their future-telling cards, I don't seem to recall ever playing."

"I have one game." Will set the deck of cards on the bed, pulling the twos, threes, fours, fives, and sixes out of the deck and setting them on the ground beside him. "It's called Ecarte."

"Ecarte?" Jem asked as Will handed him a small pile of cards. "I don't believe I have ever heard of that game before."

"Okay. So, draw a card from your deck..."

**~~ooo~~**

"I won!" Will announced triumphantly, jumping in the air.

"I just haven't gotten the hang of it yet." Jem said, his expression calm.

**~~ooo~~**

"I won again. C'mon James!"

Jem just smiled.

**~~ooo~~**

"This is getting boring. I'm sick of you being so easy to beat." Will grunted, laying his head on the edge of the bed. Jem pulled the coverlet around him, shivering.

"Can we at least go to the training room. It's cold."

**~~ooo~~**

"I brought you a glass of water. I helped you to the training room. I lit the fire, and you still are terrible at playing." Will threw a stray ball of fuzz into the fire, watching as the golden flames burst the fuzz into ashes.

"Well then." Jem said, straightening himself on the hard wooden floor. "I better keep practicing then, shouldn't I?"

**~~ooo~~**

"That gives you two more points, which means-"

"I won." Jem grinned, tossing a small pile of cards in between them. Will scowled, grabbing the cards from the floor and tossing them into the fire. He watched as the fire burned small holes and the cards, and as small, white ashes fluttered out of the fireplace. Jem just laughed.

"You can't win like that."

"Sometimes it's the only way to win." Will said, his mouth drawn down in a displeased line. "Burn it all down!"

The edges of Jem's mouth twitched upwards, his eyes glowing almost yellow in the light of the fire. Reaching for a dagger, he stretched his arm out, wrapping his fingers around the hilt. "Here." Jem said, slipping the dagger into Will's hand.

It was narrow and cool, the edge of the hilt carved from iron. Will traced the designs along the pommel, feeling the small indentations. Pulling his arm behind his head, he aligned the dagger perfectly in line with the target. With a swift motion of his hand, the dagger whizzed towards the target, landing close to the middle.

"You're getting better." Jem smiled slightly, pushing himself up. For a few moments, he wobbled unsteadily. Will stared at him, his poise almost catlike to make sure he was ready if Jem should fall, but he stood strong. Setting his hand on Will's shoulder, his touch was light and surprisingly reassuring.

"I'm still learning." Will shrugged. "But I mess up. It's taken me longer than most."

"Humbleness." Jem said softly, leaning his head to the side. "Is just one of the many things you have learned."

"James-"

"Faith, though, is one thing I still struggle to instill in you." Jem pulled his hand to his chest, his eyelashes framing his eyes like fine lines of silk. Will opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it as Jem walked away from him, over to the training room door.

"Are you ready?" Will asked suddenly as Jem reached to open the door. He froze for a moment before turning around to face Will.

"For the ceremony? The parabatai ceremony?" Jem murmured.

"Yes. We undergo the ceremony in a fortnight...After I'm 14. Remember?"

"I remember." Jem gave him a slow, measured look. "It just hasn't completely registered...The responsibility, the commitment, the friendship that these runes tie. I never thought I would find someone to be my parabatai. I never thought I would get asked...especially considering-"

"I don't want to talk about that." Will interrupted, looking at the fire so Jem could not see the fear the ghosted across his face. "I just wanted to know if you are ready."

"Yes." Jem said at last, turning away from him to open the door. "The question is, are you?"


	15. Chapter 15

Jem's eyes were wide, his breathing ragged with exhilaration as he stepped into the blazing circle in front of him. Will was opposite of him, engulfed in a circle of flames. Slowly, the two circles merged together, forming one large circle of fire around them.

Jem could feel the searing heat of the fire lapping at his ankles and his heels, but he didn't notice for his concentration was on Will. Charlotte stood in the sidelines, watching with curiosity as the Silent Brother beckoned for them to say the oath. Will grinned inwardly, for he had his Mnemosyne rune which helped him remember the oath.

"_Entreat me not to leave thee,_  
_Or return from following after thee—for whither thou goest, I will go,_  
_And where thou lodgest, I will lodge._  
_Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. _  
_Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried. _  
_The Angel do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me._"

Will said confidently, his head raised high. Jem repeated it softly, his voice unsure, but strong. Drawing a stele from the inner folds of the parchment-like robes, the Silent Brother handed them both stele's. Stepping forward, Jem put his hand on the back of Will's shoulder, leaning forward. Pressing the stele right above the swoop of Will's shirt collar, he drew the parabatai rune.

Will hissed in pain, his hand tensing around his stele. His eyes were bright blue with pain, his teeth digging into his top lip. Jem pulled back, his eyes dark with worry.

"Sorry." Will whispered as he moved to mark Jem. Unlike normal runes, the parabatai rune was agony. The outsides of Jem's vision were white as if they had been bleached with acid. His mouth ran dry as the stele ran across his collarbone. It burned as if Will had pressed a hot ember to his skin, creating stark black lines against Jem's pale skin.

For a moment after Will jerked back from him, his stele still clutched fiercely in his hand, the rune almost glowed. A soft white blaze like a witchlight outlined the parabatai rune. The light soon dimmed, leaving just the soft luminous gleam of the ever weakening flames that encircled them.

Jem knew that one of the benefits of being a parabatai was that you draw strength from being closer to your partner. Already, Jem felt different in a subtle way, his mind sharper and full of energy.

_When Will shall burn like a star, I shall be there with him, burning brightly._

**~~ooo~~**

Jem plucked absentmindedly at the strings, the vibrations resonating throughout the entire violin. He leaned his head back in the chair and ran his fingers across the recently rosined strings. Will's head was rested on the side of Jem's knee, his newly cut black hair curling right below his ears. In his hand was a book, Vathek, which he held precariously between two fingers near his face. Will turned the page, creating light crinkling noises as his fingers slipped, the page corner folding.

"Can't you play a different song?" Will sighed, setting down the book. He looked up, his eyes glancing automatically to the parabatai rune near Jem's shoulder. "You've been plucking the same strings over and over and over again. It gets quite redundant."

Jem smiled crookedly, tilting his head to the side. "Well, I guess that means my music hasn't gone unheard."

"Well, if someone is playing it right by my face, its hard to ignore it. And, it ticks me off even more since this book is in my least favorite part!"

"Which part?"

"The part when Caliph Vathek mentions a duck flying overhead." Will snarled at the book. "I'm going to kill all of the ducks. I'm going to burn down the lake in Yorkshire. I'm going to-"

"Burn down a lake?" Jem interrupted, his eyes bright with amusement. "I am not really sure that is going to work."

"I'm William Herondale! I'll find a way to make it work." Will announced, tossing the book behind him. "I'm in need of an adventure. It is much too boring sitting here and just reading."

"I thought you liked reading."

"I do." Will said, his mouth drawn down in a scowl. "But you get tired of playing your violin sometimes, don't you?"

"No. Not really."

Will crossed his arms in annoyance, his face flushed with energy. "I want to hunt some demons, I want to kill some Downworlders, I want to go fight Gabriel and Gideon."

"Calm down, Will." Jem said, setting his violin down. "If you want to go hunt demons, then lets go hunt demons. Just don't act so childish."

"Just because you are older doesn't mean-"

"William." Jem said sternly. "Hunting demons isn't supposed to be a light sport. Shadowhunters have died doing this."

"Then why do you agree to come with me to fight some?"

"Because I understand what you want. You are a Shadowhunter it's in your blood to want to fight." Jem stood up, smoothing the front of his shirt. "And, I don't want you to go alone. I am your parabatai, am I not?"

"Okay. I'll get the seraph blades, can you get my stele?"

Jem nodded, rolling his eyes as Will bolted out of the room. Walking slowly towards Will's room, he clicked open the door. He frowned at the state of it, for there were dirty clothes flung over chairs and half eaten scones on a plate. Opening a drawer, Jem fumbled through a mass of torn up pieces of paper. Finally, his hand hit something hard. He wrapped his hand around Will's stele and drew from the drawer.

"Will. I got it." Jem called as he neared the main room. Will was already there, a seraph blade slung over his back and another in his hand. Peering outside the open door, he saw two dark figures glance cautiously at them with a small burlap sack in their hands. Instantly, Jem recognized the sauntering gait of the taller boy.

_What are Gideon and Gabriel planning to do out there?_


	16. Chapter 16

Jem and Will moved forward silently, trailing after the Lightwood brothers down the deserted street. Will was right in front of Jem, his black hair falling over his face and the bottoms of his pant legs damp with the low lying mist. Jem wiped his face with his shirtsleeve, drawing in a strained breath of air. Straining to keep Gabriel and Gideon in sight, Jem peered around an abandoned building into a tunnel.

"Couldn't they just be on a demon hunt?" Jem asked, pulling on Will's shirtsleeve. "After all, Gideon is 16 and Gabriel is 15. It makes sense that they would be going on expeditions."

"That seems likely." Will shrugged, keeping his stare on Gabriel. "Nevertheless, it's always fun to spy on them anyway." Wrapping his hand around Jem's wrist, Will pulled him down the street. Panting, Jem fought to keep up with Will, especially with the weight of the seraph blade dragging him down. Will slowed to a stop, his blue eyes wide as he strained to see in the dark.

Gabriel was right behind Gideon, his vest askew and his sandy hair, which was slightly shorter on one side, was disheveled. "Are you sure father said we would train here?"

"Quite sure." Gideon said, looking around for any sign of his father, Benedict Lightwood.

"Training?" Jem whispered into Will's ear. "They are getting extra training?"

"Benedict Lightwood believes that the more they train, the more likely they will be seen as formidable leaders of the London Institute when they grow up...Of course, that will only happen if Benedict doesn't get the leader position first."

"Benedict Lightwood? London Institute leader?" Jem said incredulously as Will moved forward slightly, trying to step as lightly as possible. A loud growl startled him, almost causing Will to lose his footing. Suddenly, the tunnel was flooded with a soft, pale glow like one of a witchlight. An enormous hellhound stood in front of Gideon and Gabriel, it's mouth dripping with drool. It's tail ended in a barbed mace, swinging dangerously close to Gabriel.

It leapt forward, knocking Gideon off his feet. Fumbling for a dagger in his pocket, Gideon wrapped his fingers around the hilt, driving it upwards into the dogs gut. Whining, it reared back and instead pursued Gabriel, who had a look of apparent fear on his face. Despite his height, Gabriel looked surprisingly small against the muscular build of the hellhound.

The demon crouched low, his haunches bunched up and ready to spring. As it hurtled forward at Gabriel, Gideon pushed Gabriel down before the dog could tackle him. Gabriel spat something to Gideon before stumbling to his feet, a seraph blade in hand. As he drove it down into the demon's back, the hellhound burst into ashes, leaving ichor on the floor and blade.

"You must be ready for anything." A low voice rang through the tunnel. A man stepped out from the shadows, his eyes cold as ice. He had a weathered face, and was tall; taller than Gabriel, who was extremely tall for his age. His brown hair had gray laced in it, making him look even older.

Jem could see Gideon flinch as his father neared, drawing back slightly.

"What are they saying?" Will said, leaning his head out of the shadows.

"Get back!" Jem said frantically but quietly, pulling Will back. He coughed slightly in his arm, wincing as the sound echoed through the tunnel. Benedict froze, his eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

"Someone is here." He told Gabriel and Gideon. "It isn't safe, especially with Granville Fairchild as leader of the Institute. Go, go. Keep practicing and don't tell anyone of our meetings." Gabriel and Gideon nodded, hurrying out of the tunnel. Jem and Will followed, still trying to remain unseen.

"I know you guys are there." Gideon called out once the tunnel was no longer in sight. "I can hear you, Will...James."

Jem sighed, stepping out of the shadows into the street, Will following him.

"What does it matter if we were following you or not?" Will spat, crossing his arms.

"Didn't anyone tell you to stay out of other people's business?" Gabriel hissed, scowling with exasperation. He moved forward, only a foot away from Will, and his green eyes blazing with hatred. Will just straightened his back and didn't brake his stare.

"Didn't anyone tell you that-"

"William." Jem interrupted, elbowing him slightly in the ribs. "There's no point in arguing. We did interfere with their plans."

"Plans of taking over the Institute!" Will countered, his voice rising in anger. He looked at Jem, his eyes widening in surprise. "James, are you alright?"

"What? Why?" Jem tilted his head in confusion.

"You...You've got blood all over your mouth." Will said, his face pale with worry. Jem pressed his fingertips to his mouth and pulled them back. They were spotted with red and sticky with blood. Looking up, Will had blurred slightly, the world spinning around him.

"I need to get back..." Jem stuttered, stepping forward, his hand on Will's shoulder. "I-" He coughed again, blood splattering the ground. Gideon looked at Jem in shock, his hands clenched in awkward fists. Jem could feel Will slings his arm under his, helping him forward. He tried to walk, but the edges of his vision closed in and everything went black.

**~~ooo~~**

"You told them? You told them?" Will yelled at Charlotte, his shoulders angular with rage. "It's not your place to tell them, nor is it their place to know!"

"Will. They wanted to understand. I wanted them to understand." Charlotte said, her top teeth sinking into her bottom lip. Henry put his hand on her shoulder, his hand tense with embarrassment.

"You could at least waited until he woke up, and then asked!" Will's face was flushed, his eyes blazing lividly.

"Calm down, Will." Charlotte pleaded, pushing off Henry's hand from her shoulder. "I just did it to help James."

"You're not helping. You just want to make things easier for yourself." Will said, his fingernails digging into his palms. Charlotte reached forward to comfort him, but he slapped her hand away, pulling back from her. Opening Jem's door, he slipped inside, slamming it before Charlotte could follow him.

"You don't have to be that rude." Jem murmured, opening one eye. Will looked at the floor, his hands clasped in front of him. _Oh, but I do. If I don't, she'll die._ Will wanted to say, but knew he couldn't.

"Well, if you ever catch a time where I'm not rude, then it's not me." Will said, walking towards his bedside.

"No. I know its you because you always try to change the subject to avoid talking about it." Jem said thoughtfully, his eyes raking over Will's expression. "But the question is, why do you do it?"

"Is that really necessary?"

"No." Jem said, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "Because I can already tell who you are just by looking at your face. You think you hide it all, but it's right there if you look for it, Will."

"No." Will whispered, lowering his voice until he knew it was inaudible. "You don't know the first thing about me."


	17. Chapter 17

Jem coughed slightly, his chest tight with pain. Will tensed, his eyes frozen on Jem, but relaxed when he saw there was no blood. Jem shot a look at Will that was as close to a glare as he had ever gotten. "Must you be like that?"

"Like what?"

"When I cough, it doesn't mean that I'm going to die that very second. You make quite a great deal out of it."

"I'm not making a big deal out of it."

"You know that its going to happen, Will, whether you like it or not. I'm going to die-"

"I only wish you wouldn't speak of dying." Will interrupted, turning away from Jem.

"Will. Do you remember when I first got here?" Jem asked, putting his hand over Will's.

"How could I forget?" He smiled crookedly, reminiscing in their first meeting.

"I was twelve. The doctors said I would only live one or two more years. I'm fourteen, William. I'm almost fifteen." Jem closed his eyes slightly, his fingers still placed gently on Will's wrist. "I fear that I will have to desert you after just becoming parabatai, but still...you must come to terms with my illness."

"No. I don't." Will hissed, suddenly angry. He glanced at the ceiling, pulling his hand to his chest. "I don't have to accept anything."

"Of course you don't. You're William Herondale, remember? You never accept anything." Jem pointed out, the edges of his mouth lilting up in a bow. "And because you are William Herondale, I understand."

"Is that a good thing...or a bad thing?" Will inquired, forcing a small grin. Jem rolled over shrugging placidly.

"Depends. Some of the things I have inferred about you have been not quite so savory. Now, when I try to imagine you in the future...that is much more mind-scarring."

"Hmm. I'd like to hear about your 'predictions' one day."

"And give all of us nightmares? No thanks." Sighing, Jem closed his eyes, his breathing stirring the sheets slightly. Standing up, Will walked out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

**~~ooo~~**

The daggers pierced the heart of the target with a satisfying thunk, each one quivering slightly as they came to a stop. Walking over to the target in three long strides, Will yanked the daggers out of the wood and went back to his starting position. He could hear the air whistle as the daggers flew through the air, perfectly aimed and perfectly straight.

His arms were sore and his back was aching as he just kept throwing and retrieving the daggers. His fingers fumbled for the hilt of the dagger, positioning his body to throw it.

"No matter how many times you throw that dagger, your friend isn't going to get any better." Gideon said, walking into the training room. Will spun around, the dagger still clenched in his hand.

"He's not just some friend. He's my parabatai. Why should you care anyway?" Will spat, turning away from him. Gideon shrugged, leaning against the wall.

"I just try to imagine if it was my brother." Gideon said, his voice low as he stepped forward. "I don't like you, Will. I know you don't like me either, but I want you to know that you acting up isn't going to help anything...and that I feel sorry for you because he's dying."

"You're right." Will muttered, his eyes flaring with anger. "I don't like you."

"Will-"

"He's not dying." Will said suddenly, his voice growing more frantic and angrier with every word. "He can't be dying. You're a liar."

"You can say that." Gideon turned around, facing the training room door. "But in the end, who are you trying to convince? Me, or yourself?" Leaving the room, Gideon closed the door with a slam. Alone in the training room, Will sank to his knees, his head on his hands.

He swore in Welsh, something that he normally would have been scolded for if he were at home and not a the Institute. _Not my home any longer._ Will thought to himself, throwing the dagger carelessly at the target. _Oh, Ella._

In the back of his mind, he could see his sister on her bed, her eyes open and glazed. The worst part of all, though, was that he knew that it was his fault, that if he hadn't opened the stupid Pyxis, she might still be alive, and he might have never been cursed.

"Who is she?" A voice came from the door, soft and familiar.

"Who?" Will asked, pushing himself off the floor.

"Ella. You keep saying her name." Jem walked into the room, his dragon cane in hand. "Is she your sister?"

"Not anymore. But it's none of your business. It is just that-" Will broke off his sentence, something he did often when he realized he was about to give too much information. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"I'm feeling better. A lot better, actually." Jem smiled slightly, walking out of the shadows of the doorway. "I think it was just that overwhelming sort of thing. Sort of like the...stuff...acting up."

"Oh. I see. Well, lets hope that you're better later because I want to go out and hunt."

"Oh, William." Jem sighed, though his eyes were bright with anticipation. "Are we going out and about searching for trouble?"

Will clicked his tongue, smirking. "You know we are. After all, what's a Shadowhunter without a sense of adventure?"

"A mundane?" Jem suggested, his expression clearly puzzled.

"No. A duck." Will scoffed as if it were an entirely obvious answer.

"A duck?"

"Of course. Ducks are the answer to everything."

"That doesn't make sense." Jem said, nudging Will affectionately with his shoulder. "Then again, nothing you say makes any sense."

"That's because I'm-"

"A duck." Jem interrupted, ignoring Will's sudden scowl.

"I'm not a duck."

"You did just say that ducks are the answer to everything."

"I am not a duck." Will repeated in protest. Jem just rolled his eyes and went to follow his parabatai out of the training room.


	18. Chapter 18

"I heard Charlotte talking about a couple Shax demons out here."

"Is that where you want to go?"

"Yeah. I know that they should be down by the Blackfriars Bridge." Will tugged on Jem's wrist, pulling him around a lively building. The sky had already started to darken, the hue of violets and grays blending to make the gloomy London atmosphere. It was depressing, but it was London and because it was London, such dismal skies were familiar to Jem and Will.

With their misericord blades firmly gripped in their hands, they ran down the London streets towards the Blackfriars Bridge. In Jem's left hand was his stele, a long prism of steely gray stone morphing into a bright green crystal. He looked around cautiously, constantly having to push the disheveled strands of silver hair from his eyes.

"The thing is, Will, is that Shax demons are trackers...Not fighters." Jem said as they rounded a corner. "What I'm wondering is that if there are Shax demons, what could they possibly be hunting?"

"Does it matter?" Will scoffed. A duck fluttered onto a sill, quacking and preening in it's muddy brown, damp feathers. Stooping down, Will picked up a rock from the cracks in the street. He angled his arm backwards, the rock placed between his fingers, ready to fly.

"Will, I really doubt that throwing the rock at the duck is the best-" Jem said, dropping off his sentence as Will threw the rock at the duck. It missed the duck, but bounced off the window above the sill, thus scaring the duck anyway.

"Damn it." Will swore, glaring as the duck flew away.

"Why'd you do that?" Jem asked, rolling his eyes.

"When I was 6, I was feeding the mallards in the park some stale bread. Upon realizing I had no more food, a nasty, black mallard ran over and bit me on the finger." Will said, his mouth shifting between a grin and a scowl. "Then, the following day, it proceeded to bite me on the other hand."

"Oh. I'm sure that must have been mind-scarring." Jem laughed sarcastically, ignoring Will's look of displeasure. "You are quite mad...quite crazy."

"Oh, I know that, James." Will lifted his head, his eyes light with amusement. He hopped over a small bush and onto the Blackfriars Bridge. Smoke from the railroad tracks had created a small cover of silt on the bridge railing, creaking marks of grime on anyone who touched it.

_Yet, despite the nastiness of the smoke, _Jem thought absentmindedly, _The view is quite a pretty sight._ Shades of orange and pink streaked the edge of the horizon, casting a warm glow across the bitter mist. Leaning carefully against the railing, Will stared at the boats in the sea below them, paddling aimlessly through the waves.

Jem stared at Will in wonder, admiring the look of calm, childish appease that laced his expression. He looked so young, so innocent, though Jem didn't know if Will had truly ever been innocent. Walking over by Will's side, Jem drew in a sharp breath.

"Do you come here often?" Jem asked, facing Will.

"No." Will shook his head. "I don't really like it here."

"Liar." Jem smiled slightly, nudging his parabatai. "You aren't very good at hiding your expressions."

"Actually, I am extremely good at keeping a straight face." Will remarked, straightening his waistcoat. "Its just that you know me well enough to guess what I'm thinking."

"Finally admitting that I'm a mind reader?"

"No. I just felt bad that I am way better than you are. You need to get some credit."

"And who is the one who taught you to throw daggers? Who is the one that showed you how to draw runes? Who is the-"

"I get it, James!" Will interjected, tossing his head aside, shaking his hair out of his face. He whipped around at a snap, echoing across the cold, hard stones on the bridge. A Shax demon skittered blindly onto the bridge, tossing it's beetle-like head to and fro in the sharp wind.

"Why did it have to be Shax?" Jem groaned, holding his misericord blade in front of him.

"What's it with you and Shax?"

"They look like enormous insects." Stepping to the side, Jem grimaced, looking at the demon's enormous pinchers. "I'm entomophobic."

"That's new." Will shouted as he leapt onto the Shax demon's back, stabbing the misericord between the exoskeleton of the creature. It screeched, collapsing in a pool of ichor before vanishing in a puff of smoke. Will looked at Jem triumphantly, narrowly missing the splash of ichor that threatened to singe his clothes and skin.

"Careful, don't get the ichor on yourself. You know it stings." Jem warned, his fingers still wrapped tightly around the hilt of the blade.

"You're afraid of bugs?" Will asked smugly, choking down a laugh. "The scary Shadowhunter...afraid of bugs?"

"Well, you are the one whose afraid of ducks!" Jem countered, shrugging though his face was still pale. "Plus, I'm not scary."

"You're right, you're scrawny."

"Am not. I'm your height...if not taller."

"But loads skinnier. Anyway, that's it?" Will said incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, 'that's it?'" Jem inquired, confused at Will's sudden change of topic.

"I figured we'd come here and fight numerous demons, not just a pathetic bug." Will scoffed, turning his back on the spatters of ichor that had eaten away the top layer of the stone.

"Well...The thing about Shax," Jem started, his top teeth pressed into his lip, "is that they never travel alone." He nudged Will, pointing at a dark mass in the distance.

"What's that supposed to...oh" Will looked at the bottom of the bridge to see half a dozen more Shax demons bounding towards them.


	19. Chapter 19

"Watch out!" Jem yelled, pulling Will to the side. An enormous Shax demon barreled towards them, gaining speed despite the clumsy bulk of it's body. The insect-like legs that protruded from it's sides skittered across the slick floor of the bridge, looking for footing.

"You are an idiot, James." Will spat, his back pressed against the bridge railing. "Why did you bring us here?"

"I didn't. You did." Jem said, turning towards Will. They grinned at each other for a moment in mutual amusement before leaping onto the Shax demon's that surrounded them. Driving the misericord down into the Shax's head, Jem wrinkled his nose at the sound of the demon's attempts to pry the blade out. The pinchers snapped aimlessly, ichor splattering the ground around them.

It stopped twitching, evaporating into thin air as if it had never been there, save for the small puddle of ichor that smeared the bridge. Will swung the blade, slicing the demon's leg clean off. More of the ichor dripped, coating the misericord blade in a viscous glaze. Before the blade could be completely eaten away, Will stuck it into it's chest, creating a clean gash.

The last Shax demon, looking almost nervous to face the Shadowhunters, crawling across the ichor-ridden bridge. Will slashed at the demon's head, spayng ichor into the air. Jem hadn't seen Will get bitten with it's pinchers, or stuck by it's hooked legs, but Will crumpled to the ground, his misericord blade spinning into a puddle of ichor. Tackling the enormous beast, Jem pushed the blade into the soft scales of it's neck, causing it to die immediately.

"William?" Jem whispered, dropping by his parabatai. He rolled Will over, wincing as ichor seared his fingertips. Clawing at his face, Will gasped for breath, his chest rising and falling spasmodically.

"My face." Will hissed between his teeth, his nails creating scores on his cheeks. "By the Angel, it burns."

"Hold still." Jem pushed Will's hands of his face, leaning over him to hold him down. Will's left eye was raw, deep purple ichor laced with his blood ran down his cheek. Thinking fast, Jem pulled off his waistcoat, wiping the ichor off Will's face. Pressing his stele into Will's neck, he fought to keep his hands steady as he drew an iratze. Almost instantly, the wounds on Will's cheekbones were mere marks, but his eye was still welled with blood, the blue of his iris barely visible.

Helping Will into a seated position, Jem guided his hands to his face, pressing the sleeve of the waistcoat on his eye. Will groaned, his good eye glazed over with pain. "Can't you do anything for the burning?"

"I could, but frankly, the pain-killing runes hurt more than they will relieve." Jem said softly. Though his voice was light, his eyes were heavy with worry.

"Is it going to scar?" Will asked, gritting his teeth.

"What?" Jem said, looking at him in confusion.

"Is it going to scar?" Will repeated, focusing his gaze on Jem.

"Well..." Jem stuttered, looking at his eye. "I don't think so. As long as the iratze gets to it fast, which it is already...You should be fine."

Will let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, good."

"Are you really just worried about _how you look?_" Jem queried, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

"It's tough being good-looking. I don't see how any of you deal with such hideousness."

Jem shook his head, rolling his eyes. He grabbed Will's wrist, pulling him to his feet. Will handed Jem his waistcoat, though blood had caked the cuffs of one of the sleeves. Slinging it over his shoulder, Jem started forward, still keeping watch over Will's eye.

The redness had gone down, but blood still caked the bottom ring of his eye down to the curve of his cheekbone. His eyes, bluer than the pansies Henry had purchased for Charlotte, were startlingly bright against the red of the blood and tan of his skin. Though Will kept up with Jem's pace and forced his burned eye open to prove it didn't hurt anymore, his pained expression belied his actions.

"C'mon." Jem ushered Will faster down the bridge, sparing one last look at the faded sunset.

"I'm coming." Will said, his hands clenched in fists. "Good God, Charlottes going to throw a fit."

"Say, Will..." Jem cast a sly glance in Will's direction. "You once mentioned a hidden back door..."

**~~ooo~~**

"Climbing the garden wall is hardly a hidden door!" Jem panted, his hands on his knees.

"Oh, so if you wanted Charlotte to get all mad at us...again, you could have gone through the front." Will pointed out, his bad eye growing bloodshot. "Be my guest."

"Okay, fine. Sit here." Jem led Will to a chair in his room, closing the door behind them. Grabbing a wet linen cloth, he wiped the blood that had crusted on Will's face off, smearing the cloth with red.

Will scowled, pulling away slightly as Jem rubbed the cloth on his eye. He could hardly see out of it; just basic shapes and colors. The familiar burn of a stele pressed into his wrist, creating an iratze to heal the rest of the damage. Soon, his eye cleared up, and though everything was a little bit fuzzy, it was better than it burning with ichor.

"Thanks." Will mumbled under his breath, looking up at Jem.

He smiled, putting the cloth on the table. "You're my parabatai. I don't think I could bear not to help."

"Parabatai." Will echoed, a slight sense of amazement in his tone. "One of the best and worst decisions I made in my life."

"Worst?" Jem said, drawing back, his eyebrow raised.

Will laughed slightly, his eyes half-lidded as he leaned his head on the back of the chair. "I'm growing soft, James. Have I not changed since you first came?"

"You have. You've gotten taller, kinder...to me. You've also gotten better at daggers. But the one thing you haven't worked on is your maturity."

"Maturity?" Will murmured, his voice soft with exhaustion. "You're only young once, but you can be immature forever."

"Let me guess. More of 'William Herondale's Words of Wisdom?'" Jem didn't wait for an answer, for Will's eyes were already closed. His breathing was quiet but steady, breaking the fragile silence in the dark room.


	20. Chapter 20

"This is Jessamine. She is a last minute guest...for...well, forever. He parents were killed so she will be staying in the extra bedroom." Charlotte pushed a young girl forward, close to Will and Jem's age. Her dress was enormous, a long train with beading around the edges. Her perfect blond curls were held back in a dainty braid, falling down her back.

She looked around, her eyes raking up and down Will. "Jessamine? Please, lets not press the bounds of propriety. I'm to be called Miss Lovelace until otherwise stated."

"I'm James, but everyone calls me Jem." Jem said, covering the automatic dislike he had for the prissy girl standing in front of them. Jessamine ignored him, still staring at Will.

"I'm William, but please, lets not press the bounds of propriety. I'm to be called Mr. Herondale until otherwise stated." Will mocked sarcastically, his blue eyes blazing with exasperation.

Jessamine looked at him with sudden disgust, shaking off Charlotte's hand from her shoulder. Looking around, she heaved an enormous sigh. "By the Angel, this is plain."

"Well, you're gaudy enough." Will said under his breath, scowling at the new girl. She pushed past him, marching to her room, dragging her bags behind her. Jem and Will exchanged annoyed glances, then turned to look at Charlotte.

"Now, Will. You be on your best behavior. She's gone through some tough things in her life."

"We all have, but she is crazy. That monster is going to be living in the Institute?" Will spat, his lip curled in frustration. "First Gideon and Gabriel, now some bloody blond, stupid creature. Seriously Charlotte, how many more people are you going to allow in here?"

"William!" Charlotte snapped, her brown, mousy hair falling out of it's bows. "The Lightwood brothers are moving out tomorrow, and Jessamine is a Shadowhunter. Now show some respect."

"Respect?" Will scoffed, pulling Jem's wrist into the hallway. "As if."

**~~ooo~~**

"Finally met your match?" said Jem placidly, looking up at Will who was pacing along the room.

"Met my match?"

"Miss Lovelace and you. Is there to be an endless battle commencing tonight?"

"She is quite nasty, that girl." Will spat, his eyebrows furrowed. "Though I have thought of a couple ways to terrify out of her wits, that is, if she has any wits in the first place."

Jem stared at Will, rolling his eyes at his parabatai. Standing up, he brushed off his newly replaced waistcoat. "Kindness, Will. She is one of us and she will learn to be one of us. Now, are you ready for dinner?"

"Dinner?" Will's gaze was far off, his thoughts in a distant place.

"Food."

"Oh. Food." Will snapped his gaze back onto Jem, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "I am quite ready."

**~~ooo~~**

"Are these questions about my hometown going to continue, because I just simply don't have the energy for them." said Jessamine, giving the food a suspicious look as if it might be poisoned. She inspected the tips of her kid gloves, which looked like small, pink paws in the dim light.

Charlotte pinched her mouth together, struggling for patience. "Are you finding the accommodations suitable for your needs?"

"Hmmph. I guess they are all right, despite the fact that you don't have a servant." Jessamine sighed, resting her head on her hand. "The rooms are really quite plain."

"Well, as long as the room meets your needs, you should be fine." Charlotte said, her tone clipped.

"This talk is putting me to sleep." Will announced loudly, stretching his arms in a theatrical fashion. "I think we should liven it up with me stories. Did I tell you about yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" Charlotte echoed. She turned to Henry, shaking his shoulder. "Dear, do wake up. You're eating paper again."

"Yesterday I went to the Blue Mermaid, treacherous place. The gin there is terrible if you must know. I was sitting and drinking, minding my own business when a man came up and demanded I sell him my wares." Will looked around, apparently pleased at the effect he was having on Charlotte.

"Going out at night his dangerous. Especially when you hang around in the slums." Charlotte crossed her arms at Will.

"Oh, it's dangerous alright. I told him I had nothing, so he jumped me. I won the fight though."

"This is all very barbaric. I'm going to retire to my room. Pity you don't have escorts." Jessamine pushed in her chair, looking intently at Charlotte.

"Oh, in Raziel's name. You are perfectly capable of walking to your room by yourself." said Charlotte. When Jessamine refused to go, she threw her hands up in resignation. "Oh fine, William. Go take her to her room...politely." She enunciated the last word, looking directly at Will who was picking at his food.

He rose from his seat, flashing a subtle smirk in Jem's way. "Miss Lovelace. I believe your room is that way."

"Oh, so now you decide to be a proper gentlemen." Jessamine said walking next to Will, swatting away his outstretched hand. "Though, you still push it with your little tricks."

"My tricks are pushing propriety? I think not." Will grinned, turning towards Jessamine. Making sure everyone was focused on him, he leaned forward, landing an enormous kiss on Jessamine's mouth.

At first, she was in shock. Her whole body was tense, her brown eyes wide with horror. Finally slapping him away, she drew in a ragged breath of air. "You did not just do that."

"Oh, but I did." Will wiped his mouth nonchalantly, surveying the expressions on everyone's faces in the room. Gabriel and Gideon, who had been ignoring the whole conversation, had turned a bright shade of red when they finally looked up from their plates. Henry, awkward as always, began to chew on his book again, the paper a soggy mess on one corner. Charlotte was baffled, her mouth half open. Jem was the only one who was unfazed, just looking at Will in disapproval.

"William." Charlotte stuttered, rising to her feet.

"Was that polite enough for you, Charlotte?" Will asked 'innocently' before exiting the room.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll talk Will out of this monstrous behavior." Jem hurried after him, making it into his room before Will had shut the door. Will had already seated himself in a corner of his room on a chair, a self satisfied smile on his face. "What was that about?"

"Did you see the expressions on their faces?"

"Oh, Charlotte is probably going to murder you after Miss Lovelace goes to bed."

"Oh, I don't care. It was all in good fun." Will stretched his legs out, putting his arms serenely behind his head. "It was all part of my plan, though."

"To anger Charlotte and Miss Lovelace?"

"I was planning something quite wittier." said Will, shrugging. "But it took too much effort wouldn't create as big as a reaction."

"You don't have...designs on Miss Lovelace, do you?" Jem queried tentatively, biting his lip.

"Oh, God no. That idiot! That prissy, proper, disgusting..." Will ran off in a torrent of Welsh, half of which were just gibberish words to Jem. Shaking his head slightly, Jem left the room, closing the door softly behind him.


	21. Chapter 21

Once Will had readied himself for nightime, he threw himself onto his bed. Wincing slightly as he landed on the sharp edge of a book, he rolled over, pulling it out from beneath him. Normally he would have lit a candle and read a few chapters, but today he was awfully tired, thus falling asleep quickly.

_"Cecily?" Will ran over to his sister, wrapping his arms around her. The tall grasses around them billowed in the wind, hugging their sides. The sky was covered in clouds, small rays of sunlight peering through all the gaps. Will buried his face in the crook of his sisters neck, inhaling her familiar lilac perfume._

_"Will, you must come back home." She murmured, pulling away from him. Her face was the splitting image of her mothers, with their deep blue eyes and high angles._

_"I know, cariad. I want to go home too." said Will, smiling slightly at the sight of his sister. For a moment, he thought of nothing but the way she always followed him in their house in Yorkshire. He thought of the ways she would run her fastest to try to keep up with him, and how she would insist upon everything with the look of determination lighting up her eyes._

_"William?" A soft voice spoke from behind the grasses. A girl stepped out, about Will's height. She looked just as she did the last time Will had seen her. Her hair was ragged, an ugly bruise on her eye. Her skin hung loosely on her tall frame but even so, she was still recognizable._

_"Ella? I..." Will looked at her in horror, shrinking away. "I thought you were dead."_

_"I am dead, silly." She laughed hoarsely, her mouth dark with rot. "You killed me, remember?"_

_"I never meant to." Will pleaded, his eyes round with worry. "It was the curse. I couldn't stop it."_

_"All because you decided to open the Pyxis." Ella's laugh had turned into a mocking cackle, her lip curled in a sneer. "First, Charlotte's going to die and then follows your dear sister, Cecily. Then goes Henry. Then goes Jessamine. And finally, guess who is going to die last?"_

_"Ella, please. Stop!"_

_"Your dear parabatai. He's dying already, so you will never know if it was the illness or you that killed him."_

_"No. He's not going to die." Will backed away from her, tripping over the grasses. She walked over to him, smirking._

_"But, if the person who carries the curse dies, then the curse won't be there anymore." Ella pulled away, disappearing into the mass of plants. Cecily looked at Will in horror, her eyes rolling up. She collapsed to the ground, blood leaking out from her mouth._

Will snapped his eyes open. He was panting, the blankets twisted around him. Pushing himself off the bed, he stumbled to stay upright. Slipping on regular clothes, he opened the door silently, creeping out into the night.

**~~ooo~~**

Something was wrong, Jem could feel it. There was a tightness in his chest that was only there when Will was in trouble. Forcing himself up from his studies, he blew out the candle.

When he reached Will's room, the bed sheets were thrown open and Will was no where to be seen. Grabbing one of Will's favorite books, he slipped a stele out of Will's dresser and burned a tracking rune into his hand. Images flashed in Jem's mind. He could see Will heading down the London streets, his hands shoved into his pockets, looking behind him to make sure no one was following him.

Grabbing a hat, Jem started after Will.

**~~ooo~~**

It would be so easy. Almost too easy to save everyone if he jumped.

The waves underneath the Blackfriers Bridge crashed against the pillars with bone crushing force. They were churning and mixing with the silt, turning them a deep black in the pale light of the moon. Rain misted from the heavy skies, making the bridge slippery.

Will sat precariously on the edge of the railing, his legs dangling above the water. His mind was still flooded with thoughts of his sister and everyone around him dying.

_First, Charlotte's going to die and then follows your dear sister, Cecily. Then goes Henry. Then goes Jessamine._

"Shut up!" He yelled, throwing a rock into the sea below him. His fingers were white, trying to grip onto the slick railing of the bridge.

_And finally, guess who is going to die last? Your dear parabatai. He's dying already, so you will never know if it was the illness or you that killed him._

No one would ever find him if he jumped. He would instantly be swallowed up by the water, sinking to the bottom as if he never existed. Closing his eyes with the image of Cecily still stuck in his mind, he loosened his grip and pushed himself off.

Something hard slammed into his side, fingernails digging into his arm. He looked up to see Jem holding on with one hand on the railing, and the other hand hanging onto Will's wrist. Struggling to pull himself up, Jem heaved them both over the railing onto the bridge. Taking one glance at Jem, Will scrambled to his feet with the intent of running back to the Institute. He forced himself forward as the rain started to pelt downwards, stinging his face.

Jem bolted after him, his silver hair dark with water. Leaping, he tackled Will to the ground before he could get out of sight. He pressed his hand down on Will's shoulder, his elbow resting on his throat. Will tried to struggle out of his grip, but with Jem on top of him and the cold rain numbing his arms and legs, all efforts were in vain.

Jem's eyes were glowing in the dark, yet they had no anger in them. "Don't you ever do something like that again." He said, his voice low with intensity.

"Let me go." Will snarled, his chest rising and falling rapidly under Jem's weight. Jem tightened his grip, pushing his elbow down on his throat.

"I'm not going to ask why you did that. I'm not going to tell Charlotte. But I will not tolerate you trying to hurt yourself. I already lost my parents...I don't want to lose you as well."

"Why does it matter if I die?" Will yelled, clawing at the ground. "Why should you care?"

Jem recoiled back, a look off hurt flashing across his face. "I love you as if you were my brother. Why do you think I helped train you? Why do you think I wanted deep inside to be your parabatai? I didn't do it because it was the Law or because it was right. Losing you would be like losing another member of my family." Pulling Will to his feet, he kept his fingers tightly wound on the back of Will's waistcoat to grab him if he tried to run off again.

They started off back to the Institute, ignoring the cold rain that blew into their faces and wind that whipped their hair around. Jem had saved Will and that was all that mattered.


	22. Chapter 22

The silence in the training room was only broken by the daggers that whistled through the air, hitting the painted target. Jem was quiet, just staring at Will as he threw the daggers. Will strode over to the target, wrapping his fingers around the hilt of the daggers and yanking them out.

He stood on his marker again, angling his arm back to throw another dagger.

"Do you want to talk about last night?" Jem asked suddenly, upsetting Will's concentration. He threw the dagger, but it landed on the outside circle, quivering slightly.

"Not really." said Will, drawing in an anxious breath of air. "I'm surprised you didn't tell Charlotte."

"I know you're not stupid enough to throw your life away like that." Jem stood up, fiddling with a dagger his father had given him.

Will smiled crookedly. "I'm not?"

"No." Jem didn't return his smile. This was the first time Will had seen Jem without the determined light flickering in the back of his silver eyes. Walking by Will's side, Jem sighed. "You aren't stupid and you know it. I didn't tell Charlotte because I knew, that no matter how absurd, you must have had a reason for your actions yesterday."

Shrugging, Will tossed his dagger carelessly to the side, watching as it skidded across the floor. "So what if I did have an absurd reason? It wasn't a stupid reason, by the way."

"Yes. It had something to do with your sister." Jem murmured gently, careful not to anger Will. "I can see it in your eyes whenever I talk about her. You love her."

"No. I don't." Will denied, his voice cracking with grief. He turned away from Jem, struggling to keep a straight face. "If I had cared about them, I never would have left."

"You're wrong, Will. You do care about them. Now, about that concentration." Jem changed the subject, eyeing the target. He drew back his arm and flicked his wrist, sending the dagger flying. It hit the middle with a jolting thunk, sending another dagger tumbling to the floor.

"Let me guess, I'm still throwing wrong."

"No. Your throws are actually quite alright. Its just you let yourself get focused on other things when they interrupt your concentration." Jem gave Will a dagger, slipping the hilt in his hand. Will gripped the dagger in his hand and aimed for the middle circle. Trying to ignore his surroundings, Will threw the dagger, scowling when it missed the middle by a few inches.

"I'm just sick of throwing daggers." said Will, crossing his arms. "I want to do something else, like annoying Gabriel-"

"The Lightwood brothers went back to Cheswick...in their other home. Remember?"

"Oh, right. I would even go annoy bloody Jessamine, but then Charlotte would be biting at my ankles about that."

"I would be what?" Charlotte opened the training room door, peering in. Her brown hair was messily tied up in a bun, a plain hairpin securing it. Her eyes were tired, the shadows beneath them nearly blue. Though she was wearing small heels, she still barely reached Will's forehead.

"Charlotte? Come to punish me for yesterday? Go on, have at it." Will gestured for Charlotte to speak, looking amusedly at her puzzled expression.

"Though your behavior yesterday regarding Miss Lovelace was inexcusable, that's not what I have come here for." Charlotte turned to Jem, beckoning him out of the training room. When Will moved to follow them, she shook her head. "This is private news for James to hear first."

"I'm his parabatai. How dreadful can it possibly be?" Will scoffed, throwing his hands up in confusion.

"William. I'll be back. You wait here." Jem said kindly, but firmly, shutting the training room door behind him. He followed Charlotte to the drawing room where she procured a letter from the drawers.

"Around a month ago at the Clave meeting, we agreed to send people to the Shanghai Institute. We just got this letter today." Charlotte opened the letter, handing it to Jem. Skimming the almost illegible handwriting, he froze, his hand crumpling the side of the parchment.

"Dead?" He whispered, raising his eyes to look at Charlotte. "Yanluo is dead?"

"Technically, it's back in the Void, but you won't be seeing it anytime soon. A few of the Shadowhunters found it a few weeks ago and had seen to it that it had been slain, but the letter didn't arrive until now." Taking the letter from his hands, Charlotte placed it gently back inside the drawer. When she turned around, she had a small brown package in her hands, addressed to Jem. "Here, they found this and thought you would want them."

Jem thanked her numbly, taking the package and hurrying out of the room. Closing the door behind him, he sat down at his desk where he set the package down on the table. It was small and boxy, giving no clues as to what was inside. He tore it open, discarding the brown paper in the waste bin beside him.

Inside was the jade pendant his mother had given him and the Carstairs family ring. He held the pendant up by it's gold chain, surprised that it was still in pristine condition. Clutching it in his hand, the cool jade felt surprisingly reassuring against his hot skin. Setting it aside, he picked up his ring. He had gotten one when he got his first marks and, judging by the small nick in the side when he had fallen from the ladder, this was the same ring.

Slipping it on, it still fit perfectly on his ring finger. Hot tears pressed at the back of his eyes as he held the pendant close to his chest, blurring his vision. A sharp rap at the door startled him.

"James?" A voice called from the door, opening it softly.

**Author's Note: To LightwoodLady25- Will and Jem are currently 15 in this story. (They had just turned fifteen before chapters 20 and 21).**


	23. Chapter 23

"Please, William. I need few minutes alone." Jem said softly, gripping the jade pendant in his hand. He knew, though, that no matter what he said, Will would come in anyway. Jem heard a soft click at the door, watching as a ray of light filtered through the crack. Strutting over to Jem, Will looked quizzically at the necklace.

"Charlotte gave you jewelry? I didn't think you were into that kind of stuff...unless, of course, you have been hanging out with Magnus. I can see how his ways can send one a bit loopy." said Will, leaning against the table.

Jem raised his head, looking at Will. "It was my mothers. The Clave sent Shadowhunters to Shanghai and they sent it."

"The Clave doesn't strike me as sentimental." Will remarked as Jem slid the pendant onto the desk. Jem shrugged slightly, leaning back in his chair.

"No. They're not," said Jem, "but I am. And unlike you, I care about my belongings because of the memories they hold."

The door burst open, startling them both. Charlotte was panting, her pins clattering to the floor. "Forgive me for interrupting, but there is urgent news from Cyprus. Come quickly, Consul Wayland is here." She turned on her heels, running back into the living room. Exchanging confused glances, Jem and Will followed her.

The Consul stood in the middle of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. Judging by the mans demeanor, Jem guessed he was a man to be respected, hence the Consul title, though Jem had never met him till now. Consul Wayland crossed his arms, his eyes scanned the room, looking icily at Charlotte.

"Why are you back from Cyprus? Where's my father? Did they slay that awful demon?" Charlotte asked, her hands clenching the sides of her dress. Henry was beside her, his arm slung around her shoulder.

"Your father." Consul Wayland said stiffly, his tone wavering slightly. "Is dead. I'm sorry, Charlotte."

Charlotte drew in a sharp breath, her eyes wide. "Well...I guess I expected it...now or later." She stuttered, pressing the side of her face into Henry's coat lapels, who looked so embarrassed that he might have conceivably died on the spot. Wiping her sleeve across her face, Charlotte closed her eyes, trying to stop the stinging in her eyes.

"He was a great man...There is something he wanted me to tell you, though." The Consul uncrossed his arms, straightening his waistcoat. "Your father made me swear that I would make you the successor of the London Institute."

"Me? Head of the London Institute?" Charlotte's face had whitened, pulling away from Henry. "Are you sure he wasn't delusional?"

"I told him I would make sure his wishes were honored." Consul Wayland made a move to go to the door, but paused. "One more thing."

"What? Does this have something to do with his journey to Cyprus?" Charlotte inquired frantically, clutching Henry's arm.

"Remember when your father told you that he was going to Cyprus to help kill Stheno?" He clicked open the door before glancing back. "He's in London and he's hunting you." Slamming the door behind him, Charlotte was left staring after him.

"Well, there is a demon! We are Shadowhunters, are we not?" Will announced, brandishing a dagger to no one in particular.

"Shut up." Jem whispered, elbowing Will affectionately in the ribs. "You do need to calm down just a trifle. She did just lose her father."

"No. William's right. We do need to hunt Stheno down before any other lives are lost." Charlotte said resignedly, her reddened face and messy hair giving her the likeness of an upset child. "Henry, dear. Do go tell Thomas to prepare the carriage. I have a feeling where it's headed."

"What do you need me to do afterwards?" Henry queried, scratching his head, disheveling his already messy ginger hair.

"Well, I need you and Miss Lovelace to stay here while James, William and I go."

"Miss Lovelace?" Henry said awkwardly, looking worriedly at Charlotte. "Well that's the thing, Lottie...She left for a walk about half an hour ago."

**~~ooo~~**

"You've been awfully quiet since we left, William." Jem pointed out, fiddling with his ring. "Does this have something to do with Miss Lovelace?"

Will shrugged. "Don't judge me because I'm quiet. After all, no one plans a murder out loud."

"Will, have you lost your mind? Jessamine could be in danger and you are making jokes about it like she doesn't matter!" Charlotte's face had turned a splotchy red and white, her lip trembling slightly.

Will ignored her, staring at Jem. He eyed the ring in Jem's hand, leaning forward. "Did you get that from the Shadowhunters in Shanghai as well?"

"They sent it with the necklace." Jem pulled off his family ring, holding it out.

"Asking me for my hand, James?" Will smirked, swiping the ring with Jem's fingertips. Jem scowled slightly, hunching his shoulders.

"If you were my husband, William, I would put poison in your coffee."

To Jem's surprise, Will just smiled. "Well, if you were my wife, I would drink it. By the Angel, I feel bad for anyone who gets betrothed to you. Hours of endless violin music and so forth, trying to convince the unlucky lady that its actually good music."

"That's because it is good." Jem reached forward, grabbing the ring from Will's hand.

"Do quit your jabbering, boys. I feel like something might be following us." Charlotte reached up, knocking her hand twice on the carriage ceiling. "Thomas, do stop here."

"What type of demon are we hunting?" Jem said quietly, peering outside the carriage window.

"I don't remember what kind it is, but I have a bad feeling about this." Charlotte whispered, tightening her grip on the electrum whip by her side.

"If what you don't know can't hurt you, then you're practically invulnerable." Will commented smugly, looking at Charlotte. He ran a hand through his black hair, pushing it behind his ears. His eyes were bright blue, the way they practically glowed when he was excited. Pulling back from the carriage door suddenly, Charlotte lifted her hand to her face in horror.

"It's here...and it's got Jessamine."


	24. Chapter 24

Will reached to open the carriage door, his seraph blade already in hand. Charlotte batted his hand away, glaring at him.

"Don't open the door until I say so, William." Charlotte scolded under her breath, wrapping her whip around her hand. Will scowled, rolling his eyes impatiently.

"Well, we aren't just going to sit-" Will started, breaking off his sentence when something hit into the side of the carriage. Screeching, like nails on a chalkboard, rang through the air. Jem winced, plugging one ear, struggling to stay upright. Brass claws dug into the side of the carriage, shredding the black walls. The door was ripped from the carriage, clawed hands lashing inside.

Charlotte flicked her wrist forward, wrapping the whip around Stheno's hand. The demon shrieked as the electrum cord ripped at her hand, ichor splattering the floor. Protruding from Stheno's head were venomous snakes, hissing and snapping dangerously close to Charlottes face. Jem pulled a dagger from his weapons belt, throwing it at Stheno's face.

"Well, look at that. The special guest opened the door for me. How polite." Will said sarcastically, pushing his way out of the carriage and slashing with his seraph blade. Stheno growled at him, swiping forward with her claws, snapping the sword like a piece of wood. "Calm down, you snake lady."

"You foolish Nephilim." Stheno snarled, her face contorted in a sneer. "I have killed many of your kind in the past, and you won't defeat me."

Will smiled, his face lighting up in cold amusement. "If you want, we can change it up for you. I'm always looking to add adventure and challenge to demon's lives." Stheno spat venom at Will, baring her razor sharp teeth. Will looked back at the carriage, his eyes searching for Jem. "Hey, James. You know how you always tell me to be polite? Well, I'm trying to kill her with kindness, and ITS NOT WORKING!"

Reaching into his weapon belt, Will found a crystal dagger, which he threw at the demon. It struck her in her shoulder, screams gurgling from her mouth. Angered, she threw herself at Will, her claws aimed for his throat.

Leaping from the carriage, Jem threw himself in front of Will. Managing to pull Will out of the way, Stheno's claws missed Will, grazing Jem's arm. Charlotte stumbled up, looking around frantically. The demon looked at her with it's burning, yellow eyes, the snake's mouths dripping with venom. Shrinking away from the demon, Charlotte stepped back, tripping on the ground. Jem threw a dirt clod at Stheno to get her attention, bracing himself. She turned her head in Jem's direction, slithering forward.

"Someone!" A frantic scream called from behind a tree. "Help! Help me!." Jessamine's dress was in sight, though it had been torn to shreds at the base. Running from behind the carriage to Jessamine, Thomas tried to go unseen by Stheno. Jessamine's hands were bound behind her, a snake curled up at her feet. Kicking the snake aside with little effort, Thomas sliced the bindings with a small knife.

Will and Jem were side by side with only mere daggers in their hands. Though they did much damage, they couldn't kill Stheno without a seraph blade. Thankfully, already mortally wounded, Stheno shrank back, leaving a trail of ichor.

"James, you're bleeding." Will said, grabbing Jem's arm. It had a long ragged scratch down the side where Stheno had raked it, oozing blood down his arm.

Jem pulled away, cradling his arm to his chest. "I'm fine." He protested, though he could already see Will pulling a stele from his weapons belt. He could feel the familiar burn of the iratze rune on his hand, numbing the pain in his arm.

"Don't touch me!" Jessamine ordered, pushing Charlotte's hand away. Her hair was dirtied, falling haphazardly down her back. "You're all a bad lot of Shadowhunters and its your fault the demon grabbed me in the first place."

"It was no one's fault." Charlotte said, wiping mud off her hands. "It's a demon. They don't think the way we do. They don't care if you're a Shadowhunter or not."

"No!" Jessamine wailed pitifully. Jem raised an eyebrow at her. Though she looked absolutely dreadful, it almost looked practiced as if she were in a theater. "I don't trust you!"

"We did just save your life." Will remarked, crossing his arms. He looked sullenly at the carriage. "How are we getting home?"

"Well it's not like he can carry us." Jem said, walking beside Will.

"You're right. Jessamine would crush him." Will ducked his head, grinning. Jessamine looked outraged, her face flushing to an angry red.

"We'll just have to walk." Charlotte muttered, grabbing a stele from her pocket.

"Like this? Oh, I could never!" Jessamine cried theatrically, wiping her face with her sleeve.

"No, we'll all have glamour's." Charlotte marked herself with her stele, beckoning for Will and Jem to do the same. "Now, Jessamine. Give me your arm."

"No. I don't even have my first marks." Jessamine whimpered, backing away from Charlotte.

"Then you'll just have to walk like that." Turning around, Charlotte let out an angry breath. Will and Jem followed her, laughing inwardly at Jessamine's disgusted expression.

**~~ooo~~**

"What happened in the living room, Henry?" Charlotte asked as they all walked into the Institute. The living room was smoky, silt covering the furniture. "Was it demons?"

Henry looked sheepishly at Charlotte, fiddling anxiously with a pair of pliers. "Well, not exactly..."

"Downworlders?"

"I sort of...maybe...underestimated the power of my invention." Henry hurried over to Charlotte, holding her by the shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll fix it. I'm almost close to getting the equation right!"

Charlotte sighed, looking tiredly at Henry. "Just clean it all up. And don't bring any of your inventions when we are wed."

"Oh right." Henry looked confusedly at her. "When is that?"

"A fortnight, Henry! Remember?"

"He doesn't even remember when his own wedding is." Jem whispered to Will, shaking his head.

"Well, if one tinkers as much as Henry does with all sorts of chemicals and contraptions, its easy to see why his brains have been smoked out of his head. It's a wonder how someone could be so brilliant and brainless at the same time." Will snickered, earning a well deserved glare from Charlotte.


	25. Chapter 25

"This is awful, Will. Remind me again why I'm reading this?"

"It's enrichment for the mind. Be flattered I want to read with you even after you made me visit the lake...with the ducks." Will mused, flipping the page to his book. Jem heaved an enormous sigh, running a finger along the crinkled pages.

"This is a romance book. It's not enriching my mind, its rotting it." Sinking lower into his armchair, Jem ran his eyes over the words, bored out of his wits. "'The more we are filled with thoughts of lust, the less we find true romantic love.'" Jem quoted, looking at the book in disgust. "That is what every sentence sounds like...some even worse." Shuddering, Jem closed the book.

"Well, you can read this book." Will said, holding out his book to Jem. "I mean, compared to that one, this one is quite treacherous. Then you'll be grateful that I gave you the book I did." Will snickered, looking up at Jem.

Pushing away the book in Will's hand, Jem wrinkled his nose. "Do you have something else?"

"Well, do you want really graphic, or just a little graphic?" Will asked, yelping when Jem smacked him lightly in the back with the book. "Okay, okay. I have other books that don't list every endeavor the characters accomplished in bed."

"William!" Jem opened his mouth in horror, proceeding to push the sharp end of the book into Will's back.

"You know, I actually am not a huge fan of romance novels. If you want a good book, there is always Vathek." Will smirked, clearly amused at Jem's flustered expression. "Consider this payback. I visit ducks, you read romance books."

"By the Angel, I don't think this could get more humiliating."

"Actually, if you would like, I could hold up all my books and run down the halls screaming that you have been stealing my more...sensual...books." Will offered before having a hasty remark. "Not, that I have any of the kind."

"Mmhmm. I'm sure you don't, Will." Jem said disbelievingly, trying to hide the hot flush on his cheeks. "After all, of course you don't have any books of the improper sort even though you just told me about them about a few minutes ago."

"Well, I only have two, but that hardly counts and I think I've only read them once." Tossing his book on the bed, Will stood up, stretching his arms. "You're so easy to tease, James. Perhaps I'll find more of a challenge in bloody Jessamine."

"She won't talk to you...Not after what you did." Jem remarked as he set the book down on the table beside him. "Though, I have to say she has grown into the Institute. She isn't nearly as terrible as she was when she first arrived."

"Hmmph. Says you."

Someone knocked on the door, cracking it open. "James! William. Are you ready?" Charlotte called, gathering her skirts in one hand. "The Clave meeting is starting soon. We must be off if we intend to make it."

Grabbing his waistcoat from the back of a chair, Will hurried out of his room, Jem trailing behind him. When they started down the Institute path, they saw Thomas standing by a new carriage.

"By the Angel, how many carriages do we have?" Jem queried incredulously as he climbed into the carriage. Will grinned as he moved to sit across from him.

**~~ooo~~**

"So this is Alicante. I've only been driven through Idris before." Jem breathed, looking at the Gard entrance.

A long set of stairs led down into the main room, a bright light emanating from it. As Will and Jem made their way down the stairs, curious glances from other Shadowhunters trailed after them. There were different Shadowhunters of all ethnicities: A shorter woman from the Bangkok Institute was sitting behind Jem and a weathered Indian man talking to Consul Wayland.

The Consul waved the man off, stepping into the middle of the large room. Will looked around at all the unfamiliar faces, reveling at how much it looked like a gladiatorial stage.

"Today, we have gathered here to commemorate the loss of Granville Fairchild, a dear friend of mine and head of the London Institute." Consul Wayland announced. A mournful buzz of comments swam through the Clave, giving their best wishes to Charlotte and anyone else who had been friends with her father.

"Who will be the new head?" A voice yelled from the audience. A few others chorused their concerns, agreeing with the Shadowhunter.

"I appoint, under the watchful eye of Raziel, Charlotte Fairchild as head of the Institute." The Consul stared at Charlotte, as if expecting her to make a speech. Several Shadowhunters scoffed at her, George Penhallow one of them.

"Why her?" George stood up, his eyes looking around in puzzlement. "She is hardly the one to do it."

"If I say she is head, then she will be the head of the Institute." Consul Wayland boomed, looking angrily at his nephew.

"Let him reason with you." Another Shadowhunter yelled, standing up.

"She isn't fit to be the head. For starters, she hasn't even begun to train the new arrival at the London Institute. She let a demon slip away, allowing it once again to endanger lives." George turned his head, looking at Jem. "They have sheltered an addict under their roof when he is hardly fit to be a Shadowhunter. How are we supposed to survive if the people she allows to stay can hardly fend for themselves."

Will jumped to his feet, his eyes slits. "That's my parabatai your threatening. It's not an addiction, it's a sickness, you idiot!"

"Silence!" The Consul said as he stepped forward in frustration. "Charlotte is the head and that is final." Will let out a torrent of Welsh, cursing loudly at George. Jem pulled Will into his chair, his face flushed with self-consciousness.


	26. Chapter 26

"That went well." Will said sarcastically, his shoulders angular with rage. "Those selfish bastards." He slammed the Institute gate shut, stalking up the stairs. Throwing his hat aimlessly into the main room, he marched to his room, slamming the door behind him.

"Oh, dear." Charlotte said, raising her hand to her mouth. "Ignore all those nasty things that Penhallow man said. He's quite the unsavory character." She smiled sadly at Jem, then turned to head to her drawing room. Jem stood alone, staring after her as she hurried down the hall.

Walking slowly to his room, he clicked the door closed behind him. Grabbing his violin and sitting on his bed, he plucked softly at the strings. It was an old song, one that his father had shown him on the violin when he was ten. It was a lullaby, a children's song, reminding him of home. Though he wouldn't dare sing the song out loud, he hummed gently with the tune, the lyrics well versed in his head.

_Black for hunting through the night  
For death and mourning, the color's white.  
Gold for a bride in her wedding gown,  
And red to call enchantment down.  
White silk when our bodies burn,  
Blue banners when the lost return.  
Flame for the birth of a Nephilim,  
And to wash away our sins.  
Gray for knowledge best untold,  
Bone for those who don't grow old.  
Saffron lights the victory march,  
Green will mend our broken hearts.  
Silver for the demon towers,  
And bronze to summon wicked powers._

Setting his violin beside him, Jem leaned back on his bed, shivering in the cold air. Forcing himself to stand up, he peered in the mirror. His hair was a bright silver, save for a thin strip of black the streaked a chunk of his hair. He was so thin, his cheekbones more prominent and the collar of his shirt, loose. He remembered when he was younger in Shanghai; that round face toddler knowing that he was going to be just like his father because he was so happy to be him. But fate had other plans.

Tearing his gaze away from the mirror, Jem sank to his knees, his back pressed against the side of the bed. He felt sick inside, wondering if George Penhallow had been right. Maybe he just was an addict, someone who just wasn't strong enough to pull himself away.

"James?" Will walked into Jem's room, a look of worry ghosting across his face. "You alright?"

"Hmm. Are you?" Jem glanced at Will, who sat next to him.

"I'm fine. I just murdered a teacup, so I think I'm okay." Will smiled slightly, pushing his hair out of his face. When Jem didn't smile back, he tilted his head in confusion. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"No." Jem dropped to a whisper, lowering his eyes to the floor. "I'm not alright, Will. I'm afraid."

"Of demons? Of the Consul? Of Henry's inventions?" Will asked quizzically, trying for humor though his voice cracked.

"I'm afraid. Not of life, or death, or nothingness, but of wasting it as if I had never been. I'm afraid of not having a meaning." Turning his head away from Will slightly, Jem closed his eyes. "He was right, wasn't he Will? I'm a burden for you and Charlotte."

"Don't say that, James," said Will, his fingers wrapping around Jem's wrist.

"But it's true, isn't it. I've slowed you down and I've taken time away from Charlotte." Jem said quietly, looking up at Will. "I don't belong here. I never have."

"Yes, you do. Just because you don't see your meaning does not mean that it is none."

"You speak kindly, Will, but you are avoiding the truth. I should already be dead. I've lived for you and I've lived for myself and it still isn't enough to prove that I am a Shadowhunter. I'm sick of it, Will. I'm sick of the stares and the accusations. I'm tired of facing death in the face everyday." Jem's voice rose, his eyes frantic. He buried his face in his hands, trying to keep himself from shaking.

He coughed once, blood trickling down his mouth. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve as he coughed, smearing blood on his shirt. Will pulled Jem up and clutched his coat lapels.

"Where is it?" Will inquired, his blue eyes blazing with distress.

Jem drew in a ragged gasp of air, his mouth red with blood. "I don't need any."

"Yes you do. Where did you put it?"

"There." Jem pointed at his side table, where the silver box was. Releasing his grip on Jem, Will grabbed the box, spooning some into a glass of water. He shoved it into Jem's hand, closing the box. Sipping at the silvery liquid, Jem felt a rush of energy. His chest was rising and falling fast as if he had just been running, his pupils enormous. The thin ring of silver in his eyes was barely visible, rendering his eyes a dark black.

"James?"

"Please, go away." Jem hissed through his teeth, fighting the fire that scorched his veins. Everything was outlined in a hot white, as if everything was burning. He wanted nothing more than to grab Will by the shoulders, and shake him, telling him to leave. He didn't like it when his parabatai saw him in such a helpless, disheveled state. But he just dug his fingers into the bed sheets and sat still.

"You know," Will said calmly, "I'm looking for a cure. We all are. And we will find one."

Shaking his head sadly, Jem softened, relaxing his hands. "This is one thing you cannot help me with, Will. I want the searches to stop."

"I know. You have already told me that before."

"You did not think I would ask you again?"

"No, I knew you would ask me again, so I knew I would have to say no. I will not give up, James." Standing up so he was looking down at Jem, Will held him by the shoulders. "We cannot give up."


	27. Chapter 27

Jem's hand tightened around Will's in pain as another rack of coughs heaved through his body. Both their knuckles whitened as Jem dug his fingernails into Will's wrist, creating red crescent marks in his skin.

Taking in a ragged breath, Jem pushed himself up partly. He forced his eyes open and wiped his mouth. "William? When did you come in?"

"I haven't left." Will pulled back his hand, pushing a chunk of hair from his face. "_Rwy'n aros_."

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to." Jem mumbled, letting his eyes close slightly. He was so thin, his silver eyelashes casting long shadows across his cheekbones like light scars. Drawing up the red stained coverlet around him, he hunched his shoulders.

"_Dydw i ddim eisiau gadael._" Will said hoarsely. "I don't want to leave."

"I knew what you said." Jem laughed breathily before stifling a cough. Raising his hand to his mouth, he pressed his fingertips to his lips, sucking in a shallow breath of air. Will fumbled for a stele in the pocket of his waistcoat. He grabbed Jem lightly around the wrist, pressing the burning tip into his pale skin.

"Hold still." Will gritted between his teeth as Jem struggled out of his grip.

Jem groaned, wincing as Will finished the stamina rune. "I don't want another one."

"Too bad. Charlotte said they would help."

"Since when have you listened to Charlotte?" Jem asked, smiling crookedly.

"Since what she tells me could help you get better. Also, I brought something for you." Will dragged a small bag and tray towards him after slipping the stele back into his pocket.

"Don't tell me it's a collection of your poems." Rubbing his temple with his finger in exhaustion, Jem looked suspiciously at the bag. He pulled his sleeves up and craned his neck over the edge of the bed to see what Will was holding.

"Well, I have tea, which is hardly something to celebrate." Taking the teacup off the tray, Will handed it to Jem. Sipping at it politely, Jem gagged inwardly at the cloyingly sweetness of the honey drowned tea leaves." I also have The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins." Will said proudly, holding up a weathered book. He opened it hastily, his fingers resting on the familiar spine of the book.

Jem groaned, leaning back into his pillow. "Books? Why did it have to be a book? You know I think they're a dreadful bore."

"Manners!" Will said, mocking Jessamine's almost always disapproving tone. "Now, since I just happen to be in the fortunate hands of fate and you are bedridden, I shall use this time wisely by sprucing up the air with a bit of light reading."

"That hardly makes any sense at all."

"It makes perfect sense if you know where to look." Flipping to the first page, Will cleared his throat. "_It was the last day of July. The long hot summer was drawing to a close; and we, the weary pilgrims of the London pavement, were beginning to think of the cloud-shadows on the corn-fields, and the autumn breezes on the sea-shore."_

**~~ooo~~**

"And then what?" Jem queried lucidly with no real interest in the contents of the mystery book.

"_There was some lurking insult beneath them, of which I was wholly ignorant, but which had left the mark of its profanation so plainly on her face_  
_ that even a stranger might have seen it_." Will read, his face expressionless as if he were in a trance, fully invested in the book. He looked up at Jem, a small grin on his face. "See, this is where it gets really interesting."

Jem laughed suddenly, his angular shoulders shaking with amusement.

"What? What's so funny?" Looking at Jem with puzzlement, Will lowered his eyes to the next paragraph.

"You mean to tell me that books have the power to be interesting?"

**~~ooo~~**

"_The tone of her voice was as hard, as defiant, as implacable as the expression of her eyes. She pointed to a chair, and looked me all over attentively, from head to foot, as I sat down in it._" Prodding Jem's arm, Will showed him the passage in the book. "That women sound like anyone you know?"

"Hmm? Sure." Jem yawned, the late afternoon light reflecting off his hair. He stretched his arms out, putting them serenely behind his head. Will coughed in the most odd manner that sounded a trifle like 'Jessamine' before proceeding to read the book.

**~~ooo~~**

"_So she spoke. In writing those last words, I have written all. The pen falters in my hand. The long, happy labour of many months is over. Marian was the good angel of our lives-let Marian end our Story."_ Will closed the book with a certain satisfaction that lit up his face. He turned to Jem, the book hugged in his hands as if it were the only thing he had. "The end. So, what did you think? Jem? Jem?"

He looked over at Jem and sighed in exasperation. Jem's eyes were closed, the silver of his irises no longer visible underneath his lashes. His hands were tangled in the sheets, his knees pulled up close to his chest. There was a certain inhuman way about the way he slept, with his fingers twitching in his sleep, and the way he seemed to never use the pillow for anything but sleeping _next _to.

He was snoring softly, sounding vaguely like the mangy, stray cat that always purred outside of the Institute when the London mist parted and allowed sun to peer through. Moonbeams like water filtered lazily into the room, glowing in comparison with the witchlight that was on Jem's night table. Setting the book down beside him, Will crossed his arms on the bed and buried his head in them, counting his breaths until the sun should rise again.


	28. Chapter 28

"Hey there." Jem crooned as he blinked blearily in the bright morning sunlight. He opened up his window, allowing the orange tabby to jump inside. He purred, his tail flicking with contentment as Jem scratched behind the cat's ears.

The ginger cat pushed it's head into Jem's hand, closing its eyes and tucking its paws underneath it's furry belly. Chirping lively, the cat sounded as if he were trying to engage in a conversation. Tucking the blanket around in a circle, Jem made it a makeshift bed, plopping the cat into the center. Looking at the 'bed' in confusion, the cat circled twice before curling up inside.

Opening it's golden eyes in surprise, the cat stared as Will, who had his face buried in his arms on Jem's bed, stirred. Reaching a tentative paw out to Will, the golden tabby batted at Will's curling black hair. Jem laughed slightly, rubbing the forehead with his fingertips.

Lifting his head, Will looked sleepily at the cat. "James. Is that a cat?"

"You're awake." said Jem, still petting the ginger cat. "And yes, its a cat."

"Oh, its a cat." Will murmured, putting his head down again before snapping back up. His eyes were open with confusion, staring at the cat. "Its a CAT?"

"Well, it is surely not a duck."

Will stood up, his black hair ruffled and sticking up in all directions. Grabbing the cat from the bed, Will marched over to the window. The cat hissed, clawing at Will's hand, leaving small bloodied scratches.

"Damn cat!" Will spat, pushing the cat out of the window. Screeching with anger, the orange cat puffed up, leaping onto the ground. Shutting the window, Will locked it and drew the curtains together.

"What did the cat ever do to you?"

"I hate cats, not as much as ducks...but I still hate cats." Will said simply, sucking on a bite on his thumb. "Especially cats that might have demon pox."

"Demon pox? Is that your new obsession?"

"Obsession? I like to think of it as just an extra study for recreational purposes. Would you like me to teach you about demon pox?"

"No, thanks Will. I'm sure Jessam-"

"First there is a shield shaped rash on your back, which creates fissures and cracks in your skin. Then there are oozy, green, nasty sores, splitting headaches, black-misty eyes, chills, and your hair falls out. Then, when the final stage of demon pox has started, the affected person turns-"

Jem gagged, his all too vivid imagination not helping. He pushed Will's shoulder, not without affection. "I think I get the idea."

"I have to admit that I am sincerely disappointed. A brave Shadowhunter, scared of a bit of demon pox." Will joked, grinning slightly through his veil of hair. "But I am thoroughly crestfallen that you didn't listen to the whole book. The Woman in White is quite an enthralling tale, not to say my lovely reading voice didn't help bring it's true glory out."

"How did it end again?" Jem asked, his cheeks still flushed red with nausea.

"Ok, so Anne and Laura are related. Walter thinks Anne died before the trip after he goes to see her mother. Fosco is trying to flee from the country. However, he is killed in Paris by a secret agent. The Walter and Laura get married and they live happily ever after."

Looking at Will in utter puzzlement, Jem cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, so...Who is Anne?"

"You're useless when it comes to books, James." Will crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. He slipped off his waistcoat, tossing it carelessly across the room. Loosening his tie that hugged uncomfortably at his throat, he put his arms behind his head, lying serenely in Jem's armchair.

"You do know that if you get anymore grime on my stuff, you will be the one to clean it." Throwing his covers to his knees, Jem pushed himself up into a fully upright position. "The last time you decided to come in my room after a demon hunt, you tracked in all sorts of demon guts and entrails. And since we just so happen to not have a servant, I had to clean up after your mess."

"Dear me. How humiliating." Will faked a yawn, his mouth curled up in a small smile. "And, for anyone who it may concern, I haven't gone on a demon hunt today...or yesterday."

"But the Angel knows where you go at night." Jem pointed out, the edges of his mouth instinctively pulling up. "Though, I don't remember you ever leaving...though I did fall asleep during our rather boring torture session."

"Torture session? Books are not torture." Will scoffed. "According to Mark Twain, 'Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life'...And Mark Twain is a very good author."

"Well, Leo Tolstoy, another very good author, once said, 'Music is the shorthand of emotion." Jem quoted proudly, surprised that he had remembered such a quote. "You can't be mad at me for not liking books when you don't like music."

"I'm not mad at you for not liking books. I just automatically assume you are possessed by a book-hating demon." Flicking off a piece of fuzz from his shirt cuff, Will ignored Jem's displeasured expression. "And, as I told you before, I don't hate music. It is just...Not my kind of thing."

"Liar." Jem grinned, fiddling subconsciously with his fingers. "I've seen how you watch the pianists at the balls that the mundane's have up north in the enormous hall. You could be a good pianist too...if you tried." Taking Will's hand, Jem traced the scars on his knuckles. "You have long fingers, good for playing violin and piano."

Pulling out of Jem's grasp, Will shook his head. "Me? Piano? Ha, that would never happen. I'll leave that to the other Herondales. Anyway, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm feeling better than yesterday. Why?"

"We have to leave soon." Standing up from the armchair, Will grabbed his waistcoat and slipped it on. "We have a wedding to go to."


	29. Chapter 29

Will yawned, his thick lashes covering the blue of his tired eyes. Jessamine looked pouty, her small mouth pinched in a look of disdain. Will had to admit she did look quite pretty in her exquisite gown of red pearls, but as perfect as her looks might have been, they did nothing to shape her treacherous personality. Even Jem looked bored, his dark gray suit offsetting his pallor, making his eyes and hair look brighter than usual. Poor Henry was red faced and flushed as he shifted awkwardly in his military-like black outfit marked with gold runes. His eyes rested on Charlotte as she made her way up the isle.

She was quite beautiful, the gold lacings of her dress and veil bring out the color in her cheeks. As she reached to lift her heavy dress when she made her way up the short steps, Jem could see the quick flash of the Branwell family ring on her finger.

Though Will had memorized the wedding vows by heart from reading The Codex, it was a dull ceremony with the vows going in one ear and coming out the other. Henry took Charlotte's hand as his family ring was returned. Then the marks, placed carefully on their skin with flawless precision. Sealing their marriage with a quick peck on her cheek, Henry lifted his disheveled ginger haired head with a sense of accomplishment.

Standing up as Henry and Charlotte made their way down the isle together, Jem pulled Will up who was starting to nod off in apparent exhaustion. Crossing her arms, Jessamine fixed her white, satin gloves, paying no attention to the ceremony. Much of the same could be said for Will, who was too busy focusing his concentration on the gray curl that had fallen out of place of Aunt Callida's, Charlotte's aunt, bun.

Charlotte glanced at her new rune and then at Henry, a small smile forming on her lips. Pulling out a bronze metal contraption from his paisley pocket, Henry slipped it into Charlotte's hand.

For a moment, she looked almost scared to open it for, as genius as Henry was, his inventions rarely worked. Holding her breath, she fiddled at the small jumbled of clockwork. It burst open, the gears clicking into place as they twisted against each other with unraveled tension. Unlike most of Henry's creations, this was fairly simple, resulting in a successful project.

It had formed into a small, bronze rose; the petals curling outward and thin stem gleaming in the light. Charlotte looked at it in awe, squeezing her husbands hand in thanks. Jem leaned his head against Will's shoulder, taking in a slow inhale of air as if it would help pass time faster. He rubbed his eyes sleepily, wishing that the ceremony could have been slightly more lively.

**~~ooo~~**

"That was an entire hour that I won't ever get back." Will complained, lying back on the floor of the training room. He spun a dagger on the floor, throwing it aimlessly at the wall. "And I'm turning sixteen today. I don't want to go to a bloody wedding on my birthday, oh, but there just HAD to be one...and an awfully boring one too."

"About that..." Jem said quietly, smiling shyly in the dim light. "I've never really celebrated birthdays...I'm sure you remember when I told you that when we were younger."

"I remember. You must have been raised in a crazy family...then again, you were raised in an Institute." said Will, pushing himself up into a seated position.

"Well, I remember you told me about having nice dinners and small presents on your birthday." Jem pulled out something from behind him and handed it to Will. "_Shēngrì kuàilè._"

"Vathek?" Will said incredulously, his eye lighting up with amazement. "This has got to be written by the one and only William Beckford."

"It was the second copy ever made. I thought a bookish person like you might want it." Jem shrugged, his face flushed with self-consciousness. "I don't know a thing about books, but I just guessed what you might want."

"No, James. This is great." Looking up at Jem, Will grinned, his fingers already itching instinctively on the worn pages. "I've heard this and Castle of Otranto are quite similar in writing styles, though, why you would know that, is beyond my knowledge."

"Lucky guess?" Jem offered, holding up his hands self-depreciatingly.

"Lucky guess indeed." Will flipped open the book, his thumb rested on the textblock of the book. Grazing his eyes hungrily over the words, Will was quiet, already reading his newly acquired book. His lips moved as if he were reading the book aloud, though no sound came from them. His eyes flitted to the next page, ignoring the chilly wind that swept through the training room.

"Come on." Jem said, holding out his hand to Will. "It's quite cold in here and there is no wood for the fireplace."

"Don't bother me, James. I'm much too busy."

"Come with me back to the main room at least. If you stay in here, you'll catch your death."

"Or possibly demon pox, there is always demon pox." Taking Jem's hand, Will pulled himself up reluctantly. He brushed off his vest, keeping one finger firmly in place between the book pages. Jem opened the training room door, ushering Will outside before closing the door with a dull click. The main room was hardly warmer than the training room, but it was much brighter, giving Will more light for reading.

The door to the institute burst open suddenly, Charlotte helping someone inside. It was a girl, slightly older than Jem and Will. Her face was matted with blood, splattering onto the wooden floors. Silent Brothers trailed after them, their hoods thrown back from their faces as they followed Charlotte into the infirmary.

"Finally." Will said, looking up from his book. "Something exciting."


	30. Chapter 30

The girl stirred slightly, her face bandaged with white, cotton wrap. Jem was immediately at her bedside, looking at the mundane girl with polite curiosity. She opened her enormous brown eyes, staring amazedly into Jem's silver ones. "Am I...dead?"

Jem laughed lightly, his mouth curling up in a small smile. "No. You are in the infirmary. You got a nasty scratch on your cheek."

Her hand raised instinctively to her face, running her fingers over the bandages. Her eyes widened, her lip quivering. "Is it going to scar? I'm going to be ugly, aren't I? I won't ever find work again!"

"It probably will just a bit. Don't worry." Jem lowered himself by her bedside, crouching above the cold marble floor. "Scars aren't ugly. They are part of who you are. Us Shadowhunters have plenty of them. But enough about that, what's your name?"

She looked up at him hesitantly, pulling the white sheets around her. "Sophie. Who are you?"

"I'm James Carstairs, but just call me Jem. Everyone does."

"Do you introduce yourself to everyone like that?" The infirmary door clicked open, letting light filter in. Will strode in, walking next to Jem in an almost protective-like stance. "Because it becomes quite cliché when you say that to everyone, it loses the honorable part of saying 'Jem.'"

"Honorable. Isn't that supposed to be your area of expertise? And for your information, Will, calling me by my first name is not meant to be an honor, just a favor." Jem pulled away from Sophie's bedside, standing behind Will. Heaving an enormous sigh, Will looked from Jem back to Sophie with great gravity. Sophie shrank away from Will, her eyes glazed with muted fear.

Charlotte hurried inside the infirmary, holding new bandages in her hand. "Will, James, move back." She said in a stern, clipped voice, focusing on the mundane girl. Her eyes softened as she peeled the bandages off the girl's face. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm okay, ma'am." Wincing in pain, Sophie dug her fingernails into the bed sheets.

"The Silent Brothers are going to take a look at you in a bit. Is that okay?"

"Silent Brothers?" Sophie echoed, looking at Charlotte in confusion. "Who are they?"

"They are beings of immense power. You must not be afraid of them, though. They can help you." said Charlotte in a low voice, discarding the old bandages in a waste bin. Jem peered from behind Will at Sophie, his eyes drawn at her cut. A long, bloody gash ran from her temple to her lip. It oozed blood, seeping down onto the white sheets of the bed. His view was quickly covered as Charlotte moved in front of her and dabbed cotton at the blood.

Will turned around, sucking in a sharp breath of air in surprise as he nearly ran into one of the Silent Brothers who had come in without their knowing. Inching to the side, Will pulled Jem out of the way. The Silent Brother moved forward, his parchment-like robes rustling almost inaudibly in the stuffy room. The cloyingly sweet scent of the healing salve the Silent Brothers used filled the room.

It reminded Jem of the time when Will and Thomas had decided to duel, ending in a badly scratched up Thomas. Thankfully Charlotte had an extra batch of the salve, giving it to Thomas because he could not use an iratze for he was a mundane. It had worked miracles on his scratches, but for a gash as deep as Sophie's, Jem wondered if it would be much help.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Will jarred Jem out of his thoughts, his blue eyes cutting into Jem. "Because if you are, I'm going to do something more useful with my time."

"No." Jem said quickly, moving to exit the infirmary. "I was just going to leave. I don't want to interfere with _them._" Jem gestured his head towards the Silent Brothers who were leaning eerily over Sophie.

When Jem failed to move before Will's patience ran out, Will took Jem by the shoulder and frog-marched him out of the room. His black hair was tousled, his clothes wrinkled, making him look like he had been sleeping for days.

"It's going to be hard transitioning from being a regular mundane to being stuck into a world of magic and demons." said Jem as he clicked the door closed.

"She was a parlor maid. She's hardly someone to feel bad for." Will remarked, rolling his eyes.

"A parlor maid? Where did you hear that?"

"Charlotte and Henry. They also said they were going to offer her work." said Will. Jem gave him a displeased look. Throwing up his hands in resignation, Will shrugged. "They were talking awfully loud and they never close the drawing room door all the way when they talk."

"Oh well. You know that since she has the Sight, she'll just _have_ to stay with us. We can't risk letting her back out. She might tell others." Jem said quietly, looking back at the infirmary door. "Maybe she'll become a maid. I'm sure Jessamine would like that."

"To hell with what Jessamine wants." scoffed Will, walking slowly down the hall. "Sophie's a bloody mundane. She'll probably work with Agatha. I don't really care."

"Your mother was a mundane." Jem pointed out. Will drew in a breath of air, almost surprised at Jem's comment.

"Well, my mother is not here, is she?" Will entered the main room, grabbing Vathek from the side table. He was already almost halfway through, enjoying the book immensely. "Plus, Jessamine isn't going to want her as a maid if she's ugly. That scar across her face is quite the turn-off."

"We are getting a maid?" Jessamine said, walking into the main room. For once, she looked somewhat happy, her brown eyes eager with anticipation. "Finally, Charlotte has some sense."

"She was a former parlor maid. Charlotte is going to offer her work here...I would guess she would become a maid." Will said placidly, opening the book.

Jessamine fixed her hat, raising her chin. "I'd like to meet her."


	31. Chapter 31

Sophie walked out shyly, her head lowered so her brown curls were falling in her face. Charlotte ushered her out of the infirmary, her hand placed firmly on her shoulder. "Thank you ma'am, again." Sophie said politely, her eyes still looking at the ground as they walked down the hall. "For taking me in and giving me work, I mean."

"I couldn't let you go out with that poor cut of yours. You are welcome to stay and help." Charlotte said warmly. In a way, Charlotte looked motherly to Sophie, though she was much shorter than Sophie. The mundane girl was tall and willowy for a girl, her slender build making her look even taller. They entered the living room together, squinting in the bright light.

"Is that her?" Jessamine craned her neck, trying to get a better look at Sophie.

"This is Miss Sophie Collins. She will be working with Agatha and as a servant for the Institute." Charlotte announced, looking expectantly at Jem, Will, and Jessamine.

"Greetings." Will said dryly, not bothering to lift his eyes from his book.

"Don't worry about Will. He's always been rude. As you already know, I'm Charlotte Branwell. My husband is- Henry?" Charlotte called, looking around. "Will, where's Henry?"

"Probably blowing up the basement."

"Manners!"

"Oh, bloody manners. Now you're starting to sound just like Jessamine." Will heaved a sigh, scowling at Charlotte.

"Oh, goodness. My husband is Henry, that's William, and that is James-"

"We've met." Sophie said softly, hiding the red flush in her cheeks. She instantly burned with embarrassment that she had interrupted her mistress and immediately began apologizing for such behavior.

"Oh, no. That's okay, Sophie. Then, back there is Jessamine Lovelace."

Sophie lifted her head, causing her hair to fall back from her face. Jessamine gasped, her small mouth a wide O with disgust. Instinctively, Sophie raised her hand to her cheek, feeling the rough edges of her scar.

"Oh, well. I guess your my servant now." Jessamine said finally, still staring at Sophie's scar. "So first, I'll need you to fix me a bath, then I'm sure you know how to..."

**~~ooo~~**

"She won't last a day." Will scoffed, throwing a rock into the pond. He pulled his bag closer to him, reaching his hand inside. It was an unusually sunny day, the London clouds dissipating to only wisps in the blue sky. Jem shrugged, pulling his knees close to his chest.

"I don't know. She seems okay. Do we need glamours?"

Will ignored him, holding a bright, red fruit out to Jem. "Apple?"

"No. I'm good." Jem said absentmindedly. Pulling at the light, green grass, Jem tossed a wad of grass at Will. "Why are we here anyway?"

Will coughed as the grass wad hit him in the face before looking furiously at Jem. "I'm sick of the Institute...So I decided I wanted to go to the park."

"William Herondale going to the park for _fun_?" Jem said incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know you took part in such leisurely activities."

"Well, we learn something new everyday, don't we?" Will stuck his hand into his bag, pulling out two small bundles. "Do you want a pie? Agatha made small ones, so I took some. I don't think she'll notice."

"She's going to notice if you keep stealing from the kitchen. First bread, then the pudding, and now poultry pie? Honestly, Will. I'm not hungry."

"Take one. You didn't come to breakfast today. You need food or else you're going to look even skinnier." Will held the pie out to Jem and gave him, what the characters in his book would call, the death glare. Jem took the small pie reluctantly, scanning the pond. Mallards raced across the water, dipping under it and fluttering above the silky surface.

"I like it here. The ducks here are especially fun to watch." Jem said purposely to annoy Will as he leaned back onto the grass.

"All the ducks can go die." Will said through a muffled bite of the meat pie. "Especially that one up in Yorkshire. I tell you, James, ducks have an inner thirst for blood."

"Don't be mad, Will. I find the ducks at Hyde Park especially adorable, especially when they annoy a certain someone."

"Someday, ducks are going to rule the world. They will be the undoing of us Shadowhunters, we will be under their control! I know that they are creating secret organizations with little fanged ducks and ducks that throw daggers at us." Will shuddered dramatically, taking another enormous bite of the meat pie. "I know they are cannibalistic, revengeful little beasts."

"Fanged ducks? Ducks don't even have teeth. Plus, ducks aren't even carnivores."

"I will prove it to you somehow, James. Then you will see that I am the only sane one in this insane world." Will gestured at a small group of ducks not too far from the shore. "They are planning our demise right now. Give them the pie."

"What?"

"The pie. Give it to them."

"They'll never eat it." Jem scoffed, holding it away from Will.

"If you don't give them the pie, I'll give them you and they can eat you."

"They would never...Fine." Sighing in resignation, Jem tossed the pie to the ducks. It landed short, rolling across the grass a few meters away from Will. The ducks took immediate interest in the pie, fluttering around it and looking at it from aerial perspective.

One mallard in particular, who looked awfully big and intimidating, pecked at the peat pie. Soon, the other ducks followed suit, nipping at the crust and meat filling.

"I TOLD YOU!" Will yelled triumphantly, pushing Jem in the shoulder. "Those bloodthirsty beasts. I told you!" He put his pie down and jumped to his feet, pointing at the ducks.

The enormous mallard waddled over to Will's pie which was now on the ground, pecking at it with curiosity. As if he were a small child, Will yelped and leapt back, holding Jem to the ground. "Will, why are you-"

"Shut up. It can hear you." Will looked at the duck with disdain. "It can probably smell fear. I just breed a new race of cannibalistic ducks, James." Will looked at Jem fearfully, his hand still pressed against Jem's arm. Without meaning to, Jem burst out laughing at his parabatai's irrational phobia. He leaned his head back into the grass, the corners of his mouth curved up in delight.

"Come on, Will." Jem pulled him up, his arm slung across Will's shoulders. "You are quite crazy...crazier than Jessamine."

"I might be crazy, but I'm not murderous like ducks. I think Jessamine might be a duck."

"She is not a duck."

"She might be. Have you checked?" Will inquired as they walked back up to the park path.

"I'm assure you she is quite normal, Will. I don't think Jessamine has feathers."

"Well, have you checked _everywhere?"_

Jem felt his face redden with self-consciousness. "No, I have definitely not...But I'm sure you've tried."


	32. Chapter 32

"Do you need anything else, Master Jem?" Sophie asked, trying to hide a furious blush that spread across her face. She handed Jem his coat, not being able to tear her eyes away from his silvery eyes. He smiled politely, like he always did when she did something for him.

"I think I have everything. Will, are you ready?" Jem turned to his parabatai. Will nodded numbly, still scowling at Sophie. He had resented her the moment she laid eyes on Jem, now fawning over him how Helena had fawned over Demetrius in A Midsummer Night's Dream. She might have been pretty once, if it were not for the deep scar that twisted her delicate features. Will felt almost jealous that this new girl had taken interest in Jem.

He was almost fearful that Jem would answer her affections and leave Will by himself with no one. Jem was the only true friend Will had ever had and Will wanted it to stay that way. He pushed that thought out of his mind almost immediately, trying to convince himself that someone as good and kind as Jem could never fall under the unhealthy delusion of love.

Pushing himself from off the chair, Will stuffed a dagger into his weapons belt and pulled Jem outside. Sophie closed the Institute door, leaving the two Shadowhunters outside. Jem headed down to the carriage where Thomas was waiting with the door open. Climbing in, Jem sat in one of the seats before helping Will inside.

"What are we hunting?" Jem asked as the carriage started with a jolt.

"Charlotte's not sure. All she knows is that there is a bloody demon roaming around Whitechapel." Will sighed, leaning his head against the carriage window. His cheek felt cold as he pressed it against the side, listening to the steady drum of the falling rain.

**~~ooo~~**

When they had arrived at Whitechapel, the rain had lessened slightly, but still came down in a heavy sheet of fog. Their clothes and hair were immediately dampened, creating jewel like droplets on their heavy clothes. Will thought he could see a dark shape out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked, all he could see was a dark corner of mist.

"Over here." Jem gestured, procuring a witchlight from his pocket. He looked around, his silver hair shining in the glow of the witchlight. Squinting to see beyond the fog, Jem could see a figure. When he slunk up to get a better look at the demon, his blood ran cold.

The metal plates of armor that melted seamlessly into the demon gave off a dizzying reflection from the witchlight. A clawed hand was placed smartly around the top of a bladed scepter, black smoke pouring from it's eyes. It was Yanluo who had killed his parents.

Yanluo who was not dead.

"No." Jem said softly, his breath coming in short, rapid pants. He raised his hands to his face in horror, digging his nails into the sides of his face. "It can't be. You're dead!"

"Jem, Jem!" Will shook Jem's shoulders with no success. Jem's eyes were glazed with fear, focused on the enormous demon before them.

Another figure stepped out from the mist, someone that Jem recognized quite well. "William?"

"Damn it, Jem. Snap out of it." said Will. The other Will advanced towards Jem, a bloodied dagger held tightly in his hand. Yanluo hissed, bringing the scepter down on the cobblestones with incredible force.

Jem sank to his knees, his body shaking with suffocating panic as he stared up at Yanluo and the other Will. He pulled a dagger from his weapons belt and waved it frantically at Yanluo. The other Will threw the dagger, missing Jem by a hairbreadths. Will looked at the two demons in confusion before kneeling by his parabatai. Jem turned to Will slowly, terror laced in his expression.

"Get away from me." Jem snarled, slashing forward with the dagger. Will leapt back, trying to avoid Jem's swipes.

"Calm down, James. It's just me." Will said incredulously, pulling a seraph blade from his belt. The other Will's shape blurred, turning into a young woman. Her arms were laced with dark runes and stood out against her pale skin. Her hair was ragged, her whole body slashed with cuts. When she lifted her head, her eyes were black; black as Jem's had once been. Blood ran down her face, dripping onto the stones.

"Mom?" Jem said quietly, backing up. Memories thundered in Jem's head, bloodied images of demon ichor, Yanluo, and his mother screaming for him. Yanluo lifted the scepter, holding it behind his back. Jem whimpered as Will tried to pull him up, but Jem just pushed him away, his nails scraping the ground. Jem's mother moved back into the shadows, her figure barely visible.

"Jem." Will desperately tried to pull Jem back, his arms aching with the cold. Jem just struggled forward, reaching desperately for his mother.

"Leave me alone!" Jem screeched, scratching at Will's hand which was firmly wound in Jem's waistcoat. He scrambled to his feet, lashing out at Will. "Damn it, Will." A bout of coughs seized his body, causing him to double over onto the slippery pavement. He ignored the coughs and ran forward but shrank away when Yanluo neared him.

Watching as Yanluo lifted the blade scepter in the air and as the remaining outline of his mother disappeared, Jem just let himself crumple to the ground and couldn't help but scream and scream...

**~~ooo~~**

Jem sat up with a start, the white sheets of the infirmary room crumpling at his knees. Will was immediately by his side, helping Jem lay back down.

"Don't touch me, Will!" Jem gasped for air, his chest rising and falling with fear. He pushed himself out of bed in a blind frenzy, landing painfully on the cold floor. "My mom, Yanluo-

"They weren't there." Will said, worry making his Welsh accent roll his vowels. "They were demons...Two Agramon demons to be exact."

"You're lying!" Jem stood up, his silver hair disheveled. "You tried to kill me. My mother was there. That damned demon was there too."

"They are shapeshifters!" Will pulled Jem up by his shoulders, shaking his parabatai slightly. "They were trying to make you feel like they were there."

"No..." Jem said quietly, sitting on the bed. "My mother is alive. She has to be..."

"She's not." Will murmured bluntly, positioning himself in front of Jem. "I promise they were all demons. I killed them. Thomas helped me too."

"Are you sure?"

Before Will could answer, the infirmary door clicked open halfway, letting in just a small amount of light. Sophie peered in, looking at Jem with a mutely tragic expression in her eyes. Upon seeing that Will had spotted her, she let the door fall closed in front of her.

"I'm quite positive. Now, about that new servant, I'm not so sure..."


	33. Chapter 33

Normally, such physical contact between two people of the opposite gender would be looked down upon, but she was a servant and he was dreadfully ill.

One of Jem's arms was slung over Sophie's, and another was slung over Will's as they helped him to his room. Jem stumbled into his bed, coughing into his arm. To Will's relief, there were only a few dots of blood. Pushing himself onto the bed, Jem stifled another cough that shook his body. _Things must get worse before they get better_, Will thought, trying to convince himself that Jem would get better.

When Will got up to leave the room, Jem caught his wrist, his thin fingers wrapping around Will's. "Can you stay? Please, Will." Jem murmured, his silver eyes cutting through the dimly lit room.

"I'll stay." Will said quietly, waving for Sophie to leave. Bobbing a shy curtsey, Sophie reluctantly left the room, closing the door behind her. "I went to Whitechapel today and got you more of the Yin Fen." Pulling a small silver packet from his pocket, Will gave it to Jem. Running his fingers over the packet's smooth edges, Jem looked at the precious drug with great gravity.

"That night, Will, I saw something else. It wasn't my mother, or you, or the demon. In fact, I don't know what it was. It looked like a person, but it's face was smooth all over and entirely white." Downing a glass of the Yin Fen water, Jem wiped his mouth.

"Henry's inventions gone demonic?" Will offered, shrugging.

"It was something else, definitely machinery. There was one gear in the middle of it's chest, half hidden behind a cheap waistcoat, just ticking; just ticking away."

"A mechanical creature of a new creation perhaps? A hallucination?"

"It looked so real...then again, so did Yanluo and my...my mother." Jem said finally, his eyes dark silver, fighting a strong emotion. His hand went to his neck, his fingers wrapping around the jade necklace Will had gotten him when they were both kids. "Well, say something."

"James, remember when we first met?"

"And you told me I looked like I was doddering off to the grave?"

Will frowned, his face red with embarrassment. "Yes. I guess I did, but I was different back then."

"Yes, you were. Anyway, what did you want to tell me?"

"When you told me to not be sorry about your illness, and you didn't care about how I acted and you asked me to train with you, I was surprised. I had tried so hard to push everyone away-" Will broke off of his sentence, biting his lip. "No, I can't tell you that."

"All secrets have a cost...then again," Jem sighed softly, his eyes closed with exhaustion, "all secrets have a reason."

"What I meant to say was thank you. Thank you for everything you did for me." Will kneeled by Jem's bed, his face buried in his hands. "I don't think I'd still be alive without you."

Jem, who was too tired to comment, smiled and squeezed Will's hand. He didn't need to say anything anyway for they had grown close enough that they could see the unspoken words before them and see between the spoken words that they did share. Still holding onto Jem's hand, Will closed his eyes until the only words he could hear were his thoughts.

**~~ooo~~**

Once Jem had gotten cleaned up, he joined Will, Jessamine, Charlotte and Henry in the dining room. Sophie had already set the table, bringing out plates of toast and assorted foods on multicolored plates.

"How are you feeling, Jem?" Charlotte asked, sitting down at the end of the table.

"Better." Taking a sip of the water Sophie had just given him, Jem looked thoughtfully at Will's guarded expression. "Did you leave last night, because I thought I heard-"

"I had the most wonderful time last night." Will interrupted loudly, waiting until he had everyone's attention. "I went to the Blue Dragon last night and met a young woman. Turns out, as she had misplaced most of her clothes, she was a warlock. I knew because she had a line of scales on her left-"

"Will!" Jem hiss furiously between his teeth, giving Will a well deserved kick to the shins. Jem knew Will was lying, but the others, most unfortunately, did not. Sophie cast a horrified glance in Will's direction, her mouth hanging open with one hand clasped around a pitcher of cream.

"Oh fine, I shall skip the most exciting part of the story to the point where a vampire tries to steal my cap and kicks me on my right kneecap. In return, I aim a little bit higher and a tad to the left and kick as hard as I can. I've been kicked out, though, so all of my ideas when it comes to more revenge have been extinguished." Will put his arms behind his head, looking serenely at all the wall-eyed expressions in the room.

"Its William. What do you expect?" Jessamine drawled. She plucked a sugar cube from a bowl, crunching on it with her front teeth.

"Mrs. Branwell, do you need anything else?" Sophie piped up, still holding a pitcher of cream.

"Oh, I would like a scone if Agatha made any. And please, Miss Sophie, I would like you to just call me Charlotte." Dabbing her mouth with a linen cloth, Charlotte smiled warmly at Sophie.

"I will get your scone immediately, Mrs. Branw- Charlotte." Sophie said hastily, hurrying to the kitchen.

"Henry." Charlotte shook her husbands arm, drawing him out of his daydreaming.

"Yes, Lottie?"

"I'm going to retrieve my hairclip. Make sure Sophie doesn't clear my plate." Charlotte walked out of the room, leaving Henry with an empty chair behind him. He had a pencil rested on the edge of his lip, showing he was apparently in deep thought. When Jem went to butter a piece of toast, he looked up in surprise when there was a loud crack.

"Henry." Jem exhaled harshly, dropping his toast on his plate.

"Yes darling Lottie?" Henry said dreamily, still chewing on the broken pencil.

"You're chewing on your pencil again. You know how much Charlotte hates that."

"Did he just call you 'Lottie?'" Will asked Jem, snickering.

Jem just shrugged, looking good-naturedly at Will. "I guess he did."

**Author's Note: I just want to say that I'm very grateful for all the reviews and I hope that everyone has been enjoying this series. :)**


	34. Chapter 34

"Damn it." Will hissed as he knocked over his glass of water, sending the liquid cascading off the low table, onto the floor. When his attempts to clean it up, which, in his eyes, was kicking furiously at the puddle, failed, he just glared at the water. "Oh, to hell with it."

Pulling back his arm, Jem flicked his wrist, sending the dagger flying. It pieced the heart of the target, shaking with the momentum of the throw. Will stationed himself in front of another target, his black hair curling haphazardly at the back of his collar. He was quite the shot at daggers now, hitting the center more than not. Jem had to admit Will had earned it after a few years of tedious hours working on daggers. A loud crack like a rifle shot rang through the air as another dagger imbedded itself into the target.

"That was a good one, wasn't it?" Will said cheerfully, going to pull the daggers out of the painted target. "James?"

"I heard you." said Jem as he threw another dagger at the target. He turned to Will, his hair, which was in need of cutting, stuck to his face with the sweat and humidity that oozed throughout the room. _You would think_, Jem thought as he yanked a dagger out of the wood, _the cool air from the outside would help cool the training room_. Taking in a shallow breath of air, Jem took aim before snapping his arm forward like a whip, landing the dagger successfully in the middle. He pushed his hair back, ignoring the thrumming ache in his arms from repeatedly throwing daggers.

It was a good way to lose himself, to forget how many things Will had done that day to anger him, and how many ways he would be able to brainwash Will. Daggers were like an outlet, for he rarely got angry in public, that is, except for the time Will had been utterly failing at his training session...which resulted in Will asking Jem to be his parabatai and a nasty cut over Jem's ear. But that had been in the safety of the Institute.

At this thought, Jem raised his hand to his temple, feeling a slight raised scratch where the years had worn away the deep scar Will had given him. As much as it had been painful, it had been gratifying to know that Will had been listening and absorbing every word Jem had said to him when it came to taking aim with throwing knives.

"You look lost, Jem." Will jarred him out of his thoughts, drawing him back into reality.

"Oh, I was just-"

"Fanatasizing about a lovely woman who decided to come home with you one night and so conveniently decided to sleep in your room. Me too." Will looked at Jem placidly, a hint of amusement flickering in his blue eyes. "What a coincidence."

"That wasn't what I was going to say." Gritting his teeth, Jem flushed, pressing his palm to his forehead with an exhalation of annoyance.

"What were you think about? Me? My eyes? Ducks? Turkish baths?"

"I was just thinking about...wait, what? Turkish baths? What made you think that?" Jem asked, his mouth quirking up into a small smile.

"You never know."

"Its quite charming to know that you think that I'm thinking about Turkish baths. How creative." Suppressing a laugh, Jem rolled his eyes.

"I'm quite charming...You, on the other hand, are about as charming as a pineapple. No wonder the ducks like you; there is something you both have in common." Staring out of the training room window, Will laughed silently, his shoulders shaking against the thick paned glass. His breath had just begun to fog the window when he pulled away, glancing at Jem.

Plucking a sword from the wall, Will brandished it dramatically, and quite aimlessly, at nothing in particular. When he hit into another rack of swords, he whipped around, slipping on the water puddle on the ground.

"O, Cachu. Duw damn ei!" Will cursed loudly before letting out another string of quite ungentlemanly words. He had managed to land on a Claymore blade which sliced him painfully across his back. His shirt had a long tear down back where blood had started to darken it. "James!"

"By the Angel, Will. Do you ever cease to get into trouble?" Jem hurried to Will's side, crouching beside his wounded parabatai. "You should have cleaned up the water, you thick-headed idiot."

"I was busy!" Will grabbed Jem's hand, hoisting himself up with a twisted mask of pain obscuring his angelic features. Blood ran down his back, dripping onto the floor like a leaky faucet. Helping Will out, he and Jem started down the hallway. Sophie ran into them, jumping in surprise when they rounded the corner. Her brown eyes immediately went to the blood.

"Master Jem, are you alright?" She asked in a small voice. She fixed her hair subconsciously, pushing it back into her black and white bonnet. Her hands fidgeted uncomfortably at the handle of the water pail, her eyes staring into Jem's.

"I'm fine. It's Will's blood." Jem said between his teeth as he struggled to hold Will up.

Sophie looked relieved, going back down the hall to clean. Pushing Will into his room, Jem closed his door. Unlike Will's room, Jem's was clean and kept, his bed made and dressers clear of half-full teacups and bloodied weapons. Grabbing a stele from off the table, Jem sat Will pointedly into a chair. Will could feel Jem cupping the back of his neck, his hand cool against his burning skin. The pain in his back ebbed away, leaving just a dull thrum.

"Better?" Jem inquired, pulling his hand off of Will's skin.

"Better." Will smirked, raising his eyes to look at Jem. "Wait, just one more thing."

"What?"

"Have you ever given someone a haircut before?"


	35. Chapter 35

Jem let out another happy peal of laughter as more black hair fell to the floor. He felt like a child, not thinking about a care in the world. He snipped again at Will's hair with a pair of scissors, grimacing when he cut a chunk of hair too short. He couldn't help but giggle again at the sight of Will's bedraggled hair.

"You know, James, I've seen you happy, but I didn't know giddiness was part of your emotional spectrum." Will huffed, hunching his shoulders as hair fell down his shirt. "Frankly, it kind of scares me. You're going to be the one cleaning the hair up. You know that, right?"

"I know. You never clean up anyway, and I'm not going to force poor Sophie to do it." Jem narrowed his eyes, trying to concentrate on Will's hair. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop his mouth from curving up in a guilty smile.

"I guess. How does it look so far?"

"Will, you better not kill me, got it?" Jem said breathlessly, clasping his hand over his mouth as he was taken over by a hopeless fit of laughs. "It doesn't look terrible, its just...hmmm...asymmetrical?"

"What did you do?" Will stood up and was immediately in front of the mirror, running a hand through his hair. It definitely was shorter, curling slightly behind his ears. It was slightly longer in the very front, curling up in the humid room. The sides, on the other hand, were slightly shorter, giving his hair and overall, as Jessamine would call it, stylishly messy look. "It actually doesn't look too bad." Will said, turning his head to the side.

"Well, that's the thing..." Jem mumbled, staring at the back of Will's head. "I might have cut a piece of hair in back...too short. It looks rather funny."

Will's hand traveled to the back of his head, brushing loose hair from his neck. "Damn it, Jem. Did you really cut it too short?"

"Maybe." Jem covered his face with his hand, grinning despite his growing shame that increased by the second.

"Can you fix it?" Will asked, his face still warped with regret for asking Jem to cut his hair.

"Well." Jem looked at the closed door with a resigned look on his face. "There is one person we could ask..."

**~~ooo~~**

"This better be important because the impropriety of me doing this has already scarred me for life." Jessamine sighed dramatically, flipping a blond curl out of her face. She fixed her gloves, daintily clasping the fastenings at the wrist together.

"We need your help...You see, I know you are more of the beautician and you probably know a trifle more about hairstyling than I do." Jem explained as he led her into his room. When he opened the door, Will looked at Jessamine with a glare of disdain.

"I don't get it. What do you need my help with?" Jessamine complained, her mouth upturned in a red, sulky bow.

"Will, turn around." Jem ordered, ignoring the scowl that covered Will's face. At first, Jessamine just looked at Will's back, which he had not yet changed. The blood had formed a dry, crusted ring of red around the slit in back.

"I'm not touching that!" Jessamine recoiled in disgust as if being near such a thing would infect her as well.

"Its not that...it's his hair."

Jessamine's eyes traveled up to his head, her eyes widening in horror. "What did you do?" Forgetting all rules and bounds of propriety, Jessamine hurried over to Will, looking at the back of his head. "You ruined his hair! This is worse than the time that treacherous servant back in-"

"Yes, we get it." Will interrupted, looking impatiently at Jessamine. "Can you fix it?"

"Maybe." Jessamine took the sisscors from Jem, examining Will's hair. Snipping cautiously at the longer parts, she evened out the back so it looked somewhat halfway to normal. "You cut it quite awful in back, James."

Will groaned again, slouching in his chair. "I swear, if you mess my hair up on purpose, I'm going to kill you."

"Well, if your going to threaten me, I'm not going to fix it."

"Just please fix it, Jessamine." Jem pleaded, his silvery eyes wide with guarded amusement as he stared at Will's hair. "Will's just in a bad mood."

"Bad mood? Ha, if he's ever in a good mood, tell me. I'd like to see that." Jessamine scoffed, still evening out his hair. "There, how does that look?"

"Better I guess." Jem shrugged, flicking hair off of Will's neck. Without another word, Jessamine tossed the scissors on Jem's bed before making her way out of the room. She closed the door with a loud thump, her heeled shoes still clicking audibly as she walked down the hall.

"Oh, by the Angel, I look different." Will said, looking at his reflection. It wasn't all entirely bad, but it was unusual to see him with such a kept look. His black hair, which was normally in his face and covered in silt, was still messy, but cleaner in appearance. It didn't curl over his ears anymore and waved subtly in back.

"I think cutting hair is the only thing Jessamine is useful for. It looks okay. In fact, you almost look like you have a slightly longer pompadour haircut." Jem snickered, standing by Will. "Not, that that's a bad thing."

Will grunted skeptically, raising an eyebrow at his new appearance. Running a hand through the top of his hair, his tipped his head to the side. "Can you promise me one thing, Jem?"

"Depends." Jem smiled crookedly, crossing his arms.

"Don't ever, ever, ever let me give you permission to ever cut my hair again."


	36. Chapter 36

Jem couldn't pinpoint what it was that was bothering him, but as he plucked gently at his violin strings, he knew something was wrong. The tightness in his chest was almost painful, like strings wrapping tighter around his heart with every breath.

His heart was racing fast; faster than the wings of a hummingbird as his skin burned with heat. Normally, these symptoms would mean a bout of coughs were coming his way, but he felt different and much more...peculiar.

**~~ooo~~**

When Will was younger, people would always say that the Herondales could be kind people, but when they let the bitter in, the dark side of them would take over. He never truly understood that until he arrived at the Institute.

He sipped at his drink, ignoring the suspicious looks from the Downworlders around him. The droning music of the faerie bands played on with an entrancing, almost hypnotic, tune. Glancing around, he could see several Downworlders he recognized on the dim dance floor: an ifrit he had once stolen from dancing sleazily with a vampire and a werewolf that had tried to drug him multiple times in one night.

This was one of the few times he actually went where he boasted he ventured at night. He wanted to believe that he was good and that these 'harmless' adventures at night were just to convince others he was an unlikable character, but it had grown more than that. The more he lied, the more he believed, and the more he believed, the more it became a part of him.

This wasn't some masked William Herondale, it was him.

"Is this seat occupied?" A girl smirked, her teeth gleaming an unearthly white. Her auburn hair was streaked with black, offsetting her golden eyes. Her gloved hand was rested on a chair beside him, tapping it lightly. Will scanned her shamelessly, thoroughly convinced that she was a warlock, and a young one by the looks of it.

"Feel free." Will gestured to the seat before taking a swig of his gin. The warlock slid into the chair, looking expectedly at Will.

"Its not often you see children of the Nephilim here." She whispered quietly, taking Will's hand and running a finger over his runes.

"It's not often that I come here." Will said, though it wasn't entirely true. _If need be, _Will thought, _remember that your dagger is tied to your belt, not your shoe._ His mind was starting to feel compressed as if it were full of cotton, his vision sparkling like it had been reflected through a kaleidoscope.

"Why are you here?"

"Does it matter?" Will asked coolly, pulling his hand from her grasp. She rolled her eyes playfully, offering a smile. She looked, at most, 16...possibly? It was always hard to tell with warlocks, but with the way she acted, Will guessed that she hadn't been around for long unlike the well renowned warlock, Magnus Bane.

"Why so distant?" The warlock hissed amusedly, leaning forward. She was obviously on something, her skin smelling icily like faerie drugs. "Sometime I can escort you to my place if you want."

Will cringed inwardly but didn't pull away, her breath warming his cheek. Taking another gulp of his drink, he could feel his thoughts scatter. "That's asking quite a lot from a stranger. I'm not available."

She leaned back, sighing in disappointment. "Taken?"

Will laughed, his voice distant as if he were outside his body and not really controlling it. "Me? Taken? I don't get affiliated with people's love lives."

"Well I do." She pulled him out of his seat onto the dance floor, barely managing to escape hitting the quite improper ifrit. _Then again, no one here has a sense of what propriety is. _Will almost pulled away, but his morality had been sacrificed the moment the, unbeknownst to him, spiked drink had drugged him.

**~~ooo~~**

"Hurry up, Thomas." Jem called as they rode down the street, the carriage rattling on the uneven cobblestones. He didn't know where Will was or what his intentions were, but he was sure he was into trouble.

**~~ooo~~**

Will pressed her hand against the wall, the other hand on the small of her back. The drugs in his system were firing, rendering him unable to distinguish right from wrong. Her eyes were dilated to a small pinprick of black, breathing hard in the stuffy room. The pins that had held her hair up were long gone, scattered carelessly across the floor.

The room around him shimmered and he could no longer control his thoughts. It felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, no longer remembering why he had come to such a den in the first place.

Curving her arms around his neck, she pulled him down against her. She pressed her lips against his, tasting hot and sweet of faerie drugs. His mouth was fierce on hers, thinly controlled with raging desperation. His hand traveled to the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

He didn't know what they were doing together, he didn't know the first thing about her, he didn't even know her name, and yet, they were kissing as if they had known each other for the longest time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wanted to stop, but physically, he couldn't.

He pressed his mouth against her jaw, brushing her auburn hair aside. Pulling away reluctantly, Will looked at her with tired eyes, their blue haze barely visible beneath his dark lashes.

Cupping her face in his hand, he leaned forward to kiss her again, just as his parabatai burst into the room.

**Author's Note: Okay, I know this was a little sudden, (Please no hate) but face it, William Herondale is no stranger to kissing. It had to happen at some point, on faerie drugs or not. I needed some Will action to happen to build his backstory whether you (or Jem) like it or not. I hope you don't hate me too much for this chapter. :) Love, love.**


	37. Chapter 37

"Will?" Jem said softly, his eyes wide and round. Will broke away from the warlock, straightening his waistcoat. She gave Will a solemn glance before slinking off into the shadows. "Will? What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" Will's heart was pumping, adrenaline clearing his mind.

"I was worried." Jem stalked over to Will, grabbing Will by his wrists. "Something could have happened to you!"

"Nothing happened except for-" Will looked at his drink, his face crumpling like a dam under too much pressure. "Damn it. The drinks. They're spiked."

"Will, you idiot!" Tightening his grip on Will's wrists, Jem's eyes were silvered slits. "By the Angel, don't scare me like that." Jem's voice was hitched with worry, his grip tightening on Will's jacket. He leaned his forehead onto Will's shoulder, sighing in relief. "Come on. Lets go back to the Institute before Charlotte notices we're gone."

Jem took Will's arm and led him outside into the carriage, refusing to let go of his sleeve in fear Will might do something imprudent. Looking back reluctantly at the inn, Will climbed into the carriage, avoiding the stormy stare that Jem fixated on him. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"I can't believe you, Will. I just really can't." Jem murmured sadly with resignation, shutting the carriage door. "This part of town is dangerous."

Will choked on his spit. "Dangerous? Is this what it's all about? Danger is our life. If you think down here is too dangerous, don't come here in the first-"

"You think this is about me?" Jem swooped forward suddenly, grabbing Will by his coat lapels. "This isn't about me. This is about you! I know you don't care because you don't care about anything someone does for you, but at least you could be grateful that I would ever so willingly put myself in risk for the sake of your own welfare!" Jem's voice cracked, his breath coming out in shaky exhalations. "If you continue this, you're going to step into the deep end someday, and you won't be able to pull yourself out."

"I get it." Will pushed him off, crossing his arms. "I just wasn't thinking."

"You never do." Lowering his voice, Jem gazed solemnly at the carriage floor. "You don't think about anything. You don't even consider the possibility that someone does care about you and that they would risk their life for you."

"There is no one." Will muttered bluntly, scowling.

A look of hurt glassed over Jem's eyes, looking up at Will in mute anguish. "Then obviously you don't know me as well as you think you do."

**~~ooo~~**

Jem shut his door loudly, trying desperately to push down the frustration inside him that threatened to spill over. Throwing himself into his armchair, he sighed angrily, pressing his face into his hands. He could feel a sharp pain when he dug his nails into the side of his face, no doubt leaving red marks, but he didn't care.

Picking up his witchlight, he squinted in the bright glare, dashes of light escaping between the spaces between his fingers. The door opened quietly as Will slipped inside.

"Go away, Will." Jem hissed through his teeth, holding up the witchlight. Ignoring Jem, as always, Will strode inside and sat down in one of Jem's chairs. In the blinding glow of the witchlight, Will's skin looked pale, his blue eyes startlingly bright against so much white. His hair, now dampened with bath water, looked as black as raven wings. He wore an unsettled expression as he glanced at Jem, his lashes casting long shadows across his cheekbones.

"James-"

"What do you want, Will?" Jem snapped, keeping his head down.

"I've made a mess of this, haven't I?"

"Most spectacularly."

"I am so stupid. I was stupid tonight."

"Yes. Yes you were." Raising his head, Jem tried to stop his mouth from quirking up in amusement with no prevail. " Wǒ zǒng shì huì yuánliàng nǐ." _I would always forgive you._

Jem could see Will translate it under his breath before pushing a his hair out of his face. "Really?" Will asked incredulously, smiling crookedly now. "Even if I take your violin and murder Gabriel with it?"

"Even then." Jem fiddled subconsciously with his shirtsleeve, biting his lip. "I just worry that you are going to end up with some...unsavory-" Jem said carefully, "-characters."

"And what are you implying by that?"

Jem flushed, a red patch of sheepishness spreading across his face. "What I mean is that you constantly misplace your virtue."

"My virtue?" Will looked at Jem with confusion. "How does that...oh. James!"

"What?"

"I'm bloody sixteen! I might be stupid, but I'm not _that_ stupid. I'm disappointed, James. I really am. To think I would do such a thing at such a tender age of sixteen. Now, but at seventeen, that's a different story." Will gave Jem a sly look, his mouth curved up in a smirk. Jem felt his face grow even hotter as he laughed breathily with embarrassment.

"You never know when it comes to you." Jem defended his claim, throwing up his hands. He set down the witchlight, watching as the glow reduced to a flickering bead of light. "You know I've never asked you to explain why you do such shady things, but all I want you to do is give me piece of mind that you wont do something like that again."

Taking in a sharp breath of air, Will stood up from the chair. "I'll...I can't promise anything. I can't promise to you that I wont."

"Very well. Just try to stay out of trouble, Will." Jem sighed, turning away from Will. "I guess this is goodnight. After all, who knows what tomorrow will bring?"

"Ducks?" groaned Will, walking to the door. He twisted it open, wincing as it clicked loudly.

"Did you want ducks?"

"By the Angel, no." Will grinned halfway, his figure a black silhouette in the murky shadows. "Night."

When Will closed the door, Jem slipped into his bed, raising his hand to his neck. He ran his fingers over the cool jade, enjoying the familiar comfort it gave him. _Will's alive, I'm alive. I would say today was a successful day._


	38. Chapter 38

Jem held the wriggling cargo under his jacket, wrinkling his nose when it's wet feathers soaked through his thin cotton shirt. Shaking hair out of his face, he hurried down the hallway, into Will's room. Thankfully, as Jem opened the door, Will wasn't there, for he had been studying in the library. Jem grimaced as he stepped through clothes and what vaguely resembled have eaten scones.

Opening his jacket to let the duck go, Jem ran out of the room and shut the door behind as to not let it out. Stifling a snicker as he walked back into the main room, he ducked his face behind his arm so Will couldn't see his grin.

"Jem! Charlotte is the most hypocritical, brainless, infuriating person I have ever laid my eyes on!" Will stomped into the living room, his face drawn in a scowl.

Looking at Will in utter confusion, Jem raised a puzzled eyebrow. "And...why is that?"

"I just felt like hearing myself talk. I'm quite sick of listening to Charlotte droning on." Will smiled innocently, any signs of anger gone. "But really, we have to go to Hyde Park again because that one demon, hellhounds or whatever, have been lurking around."

"Didn't we just go there?" Jem frowned, pushing silver strands of hair from his eyes.

"That's what I said." Will slumped down into the couch, crossing his arms. "I'm tired."

"Have a stamina rune."

"You know, James, from the ages of 1-11, I would move around a lot. Mostly I would just read books, but sometimes I actually found the energy to walk to the pantry." Will sighed, closing his eyes. "Women don't know the downside of our gender."

"Well, at least you don't have to wear stays and petticoats and corsets." Jem mused, sitting down beside Will. "I'm sure you have much experience when it comes to that sort of clothing."

"Well, putting it on is quite difficult. On the other hand, taking it off-"

"Will!"

"I'm just kidding. You've become so gullible." Will's mouth curled up in a smirk. "But women really don't understand us. After all, it's absolutely unfair for women to say that gentlemen want one thing: sex. We also want food."

Jem punched Will softly in the shoulder, his face flushing with hot, red embarrassment. "We really need to go." Jem changed the subject, standing up.

"Okay. Wait here. I'm going to go get my weapon belt real quick." Heading down the hall, Will opened his door and strode inside. At first, there was only silence, then there was a loud clatter, squawking, and loud screeches coming from Will's room. "JAMES! DID YOU PUT THAT BLOODY SATANIC BEAST IN MY ROOM?"

Jem was immediately swallowed by hysterical giggles, covering his face with his hands. The duck quacked loudly, flapping madly in the doorway to Will's room. Feathers were flying everywhere, shaking fuzz on the wooden floors. Will burst out, his black hair disheveled and his clothes slightly askew.

"Oh, you demon!" Will bolted after Jem, hardly managing to stop himself from sliding on the slippery floor. They rounded the corners, racing through the hallways. Almost hitting past Sophie, Jem glanced back apologetically before continuing to run from Will.

"Hmm. Boys." Sophie murmured, fixing her hair as they sped by.

Distracted by the sudden appearance of Sophie, Will stalled for a moment, almost running into a side table with an antique vase that had arrived from the Cornwall Institute. Jem swung open the door to the back gardens, careful not to trample over the flowers. Will leapt at him, tackling Jem midair. They rolled down the sloped hill in a blur of black and silver, the damp grass sticking to their clothes.

They landed with a thump at the bottom of the hill, panting hard. Pancaked out on the grass, Jem inferred they probably made the oddest sight. Will and Jem looked at each other, laughing breathily as they stared up into the stormy skies.

"I hate you so much right now." Will said though a creeping smile that played on his mouth belied his words. He rolled over on his side, facing Jem. "Where'd you get the damn thing?"

"It was outside, preening its feathers on the staircase. It was practically asking to be caught." Jem's mouth quirked up as he stood up. Holding his hand out to Will, he pulled Will to a standing position. "Oh, by the Angel, now we have to go to Hyde Park."

"Can we just walk? It is quite close to the Institute."

"Says the person who just complained about being tired."

"Well, that was before I discovered you had put that creature in my bedroom." Will and Jem started back up the hill, their clothes stained with grass. The wind around them picked up it's pace, the layer of fog drooping around them The first rumble of distant thunder came; Will turned her head toward the sky, his blue eyes staring up into the savagely ominous sky.

"Gracious, its cold." Jem shivered, pulling his jacket higher.

"_The thick black cloud was cleft, and still the Moon was at its side: Like waters shot from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a jag, A river steep and wide."_ Will quoted, still staring up at the ever growing mass of clouds. Before Jem had time to ask what poem that was, Will said, "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Definitely not one of his best works, but still respectable."

"Will, I know you like your poetry, but we really need to get inside." Jem shouted over the whistling of the wind. Rain had started to pelt down, stinging their faces and soaking their clothes. By the time they had reached the Institute back doors and slipped inside, they were completely drenched in water.

"Damn it." Will swore, shaking out his hair like a dog. Jem grumbled in protest as water sprayed his face and everything around him. Walking uncomfortably down the hallways, Jem and Will hurried towards their rooms.

"Hey Will." Jem grinned, opening his bedroom door. "If you want, we can still walk to Hyde Park."

Will narrowed his eyes, closing the room to his door. Judging by the frightened quacks and screeches that came from the room, Jem rolled his eyes as his parabatai who had obviously forgotten about the duck.


	39. Chapter 39

Will trudged over to the fireplace, his wet hair dripping down his back. Setting his book and stele aside, he shivered, pulling his knees to his chest as he sat down. Jem, on the other hand, had already dried his hair and was sitting in front of the fire, his legs crossed. He was smiling slightly, his face lighting up in warm look of pleasantness.

In one hand was his violin and in the other, his bow. Setting the violin at the base of his throat, he took in a deep breath before hovering the bow over the violin. The bow, though delicate and soft, moved with precision and decisiveness elegantly over the rosined strings. Ignoring the sharp ache as the strings bit into fingertips, Jem played on, his eyes pressed shut.

A window in the Institute room burst open, the shutters rattling like the bones in the Silent City, sounding just as empty. The air stung his burning face, surprisingly cold against the heat of the room. He stilled for a moment, glancing briefly at the open window. The heavy sheets of rain that punished the London ground fought their way inside, spraying freezing mists of water into the room.

Will jumped up, stalking over to the window and shutting it angrily. His hair, that had almost been dry, was newly dampened by the rain. Grabbing the book, he opened it as he sat back down near the fire.

"What book is that?" Jem asked, putting down his violin.

"The Codex." Will studied the page, his stele gripped in one hand. "I wanted to see more of the runes. I've learned most of them, but there are still some I haven't tried."

"Most of them. There are at least a thousand different runes, not counting the ones specifically for the Silent Brothers."

"Oh, bother. I'm just looking at them."

"Just don't do any of the dangerous ones like last time. You almost drew the wedded rune on your arm until I reminded you what that rune was."

"I thought it was fortitude." Will let out a short, breathy laugh, his face illuminated by the firelight. "And I'm only looking at the temporary ones. Like this soundless rune would be useful on Jessie and a paralysis rune would be good on Henry."

"They have an anger management rune on there. You should use one sometime." Jem suggested innocently, leaning forward to look into the worn book. "Oh, in Raziel's name, I shouldn't be encouraging this. I should be telling you to stop and put the book away."

"Funny how temptation clouds our judgment. It really is quite fun to experiment with runes. I mean, nothing bad has happened."

"Yet." Jem sighed in resignation, his hand fiddling subconsciously with his violin. Will took the stele, drawing a rune on his arm.

"Look. It's a thermis rune."

"For warmth?"

"Precisely." Will took off his waistcoat, chucking it to the side. "Did you know that the soldiers in the revolutionary war got so hot, they became delusional and died. By the Angel it's hot in here. This thermis rune is definitely doing it's job a little too well."

"And whose fault is that?" Jem grinned crookedly, pulling himself to his feet, his violin and bow clutched in one hand. "Anyway, we should probably be off for the night. Remember, hellhounds tomorrow."

**~~ooo~~**

A knock on the door startled Jem awake. _Will? What's he doing up at this hour? _When he slid from bed and opened the door, he was equally surprised to see that it wasn't his parabatai.

"Sophie?" Jem murmured, looking at her with confusion through the cracked door.

"Master Jem, my apologies for waking you at such a late hour." Sophie looked at her feet shyly, her brown hair curling as it fell from her bonnet.

"Do tell. What do you require?" Stifling a yawn, Jem rubbed his eyes with his hand.

"Well, its Charlotte. She said its dreadfully important." Shifting from one foot to the other, Sophie kept her face down.

"Very well." Jem stepped out, looking around in the dimly lit hallway. Charlotte called loudly from the other room, a witchlight sparking to light. "Charlotte. What beckons us at this time?"

"There have been five more sudden deaths in Southwark near the Thames. I would have liked to hunt down whatever is causing this tomorrow, but seeing as we just got a fresh lead and more at stake, we should leave immediately." Charlotte explained, her eyes exhausted with lack of sleep.

"I'll get gear." Jem said tiredly, walking slowly to his room. He shut the door softly behind him, grabbing the heavy gear outfit that he always wore when Shadowhunting. Once he had changed out of his night clothes and into his gear, he fumbled for his stele and weapons belt in his drawer. His hand quickly found the stele and slipped it into his pocket, then went back to the drawer to find his weapons belt.

When he remembered he had left it in the training room after going on a hunt, Jem made an impatient sound in the back of his throat. Jem cast a wistful glance at his bedroom before heading to the training room to grab his weapons belt.

The heavy door slid open to a pitch black room. Thankfully, as Jem's eyes got adjusted to the dark, he could make out the silhouette of his weapons belt hanging from a nail in the mantle.

"Has the rain stopped?" Jem inquired as he returned to the main room.

"Unfortunately, the rain does not cease to persist. Don't worry, Thomas is readying the carriage."

"Is Will coming?"

"Sophie is fetching him right now."

"Master Herondale is here." Sophie said awkwardly as she walked into the room, her face abnormally red with embarrassment. When Will walked out into the living room, Jem could see why.

"Er, Will. Aren't you coming with us?" Jem gave a look of confusion at Will, who looked quite weary indeed.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I come with you?" Will queried, pushing sweaty chunk of hair from his face.

"Its going to be quite cold."

"I have my thermis rune. It's excruciatingly hot." Will said, his face flushed as if he had been running.

"But still." Jem pleaded, crossing his arms. "You can't possibly go out like that."

"Like what?" Will looked confusedly at Jem.

Jem grabbed Will by the wrist, leading him back to his room. "Will, just put on a shirt before you terrorize poor Sophie and Charlotte. Got it?"

Will looked down at himself, just noticing that he had removed his shirt when the thermis rune threatened to overheat him. His shoulder blades were sticky with sweat, breathing hard. "You mean I can't just go out like this?"

"Very funny, Will." Jem said sarcastically. Will shot Jem a playful scowl before heading back into his room.

**Authors Note: I have set a goal. I want to have at least 100 reviews by the time this series is over. The thing is, I'm not sure how many more chapters there will be. Please review and help me reach my goal. :)**


	40. Chapter 40

Once Will had finally gotten ready, Charlotte, Jem, and Will greeted Thomas at the carriage. The rain battered the window like rocks as the carriage moved faster down the street. The horses, who had gotten new stable blankets for the dismal weather, neighed pitifully as the cold air whipped around them. Lightning flashes provided the only dim light on the somber evening and were answered by roars of low thunder.

Jem let the curtains fall shut, hardly doing any service to muffle out the deafening storm.

"_It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents — except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness_." Will said nonchalantly, running his hand along the blade of a dagger. "That had to be the worst beginning to any novel ever created. Who in their right mind would start off with such a cliché line as 'It was a dark and stormy night'?"

"Apparently the author liked it. I personally think it gets the gist of the book quickly." Jem shrugged, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes. He sat back in the carriage bench, procuring a witchlight from his pocket. In the bright glow of the witchlight, Jem could see Charlotte looking anxiously out of the carriage window, her small figure hunched. Will squinted in the light, his hair sticking to his face with beads of sweat from the thermis rune.

"You've also never read the book. _The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid._" Will covered his face from the witchlight, casting his blue eyes into the dark. "Jane Austen is very much correct."

"I am not stupid." Jem frowned, a hint of amusement flickering on Will's face. The carriage ground to a stop, pausing beside the Thames. The rain, to Jem's surprise, had started to lighten, reducing down to a heavy mist. Kicking open the door, Will leapt out before letting a string of curse words pour from his mouth as he landed awkwardly on his knee. Charlotte looked sternly at Will as if to say "Shut up," but moved past him to investigate the scene.

Bodies of unsuspecting mundanes were strewn across the rocks, their limbs bent at odd angles. In the glare if the witchlight, Jem could see the bent ridges of bone protruding from the flesh. They had all been skinned, their scalps torn from their heads and flesh red and rough with sinews and ligaments.

Leaning down by one of the bodies, Jem looked closely at the bite mark on one of the mundane's necks. The blood around the torn arteries was black, obviously rotting and poisoned. This bite was definitely the work of a hellhound...but the skinning had not.

"Charlotte. This does strike me as the most peculiar killing." Jem said, raising his head. "All of the bodies seemed to have been bitten by a hellhound, yet most of the wounds on the bodies were inflicted by something very sharp...and very human."

"Are you insinuating that mundanes might have caused this, much less, that they have been using demons as their trackers?" Charlotte pinched her mouth in a thin white line of skepticism.

"It could have been a Downworlder or a Shadowhunter who did this." Will called from the shore, his pant legs heavy with water. "Hellhounds are smart for minor demons like Gabriel and Gideon, but not that smart. They would have had to use hands to skin the people."

"I don't want to jump to any conclusions yet. We just need to find the demons and go." Uncoiling her whip from her wrist, Charlotte looked around for signs of life.

A scream was cut short in the distance, making them all look at the far side of the bank. In the distance, Jem could see two beady, red eyes which were quickly covered by a very human-like figure. Without waiting for Charlotte's consent, Jem bolted across the Southwark, startling a few nesting pigeons. Skidding across the slick stone of the bridge, Jem fought to keep his footing. The hellhound snarled at Jem, a shadowy person trying to usher it out.

Quickly drawing a dagger from his weapons belt, Jem threw it, imbedding it cleanly in the hellhounds eye. It whined, raising a bloodied paw to it's face. Growling with anger, it opened it's enormous mouth to reveal rows of blackened canines, dripping with drool.

It barreled forward but was quickly killed when Charlotte's electrum whip ripped into it's coarse fur. When Jem glanced back, more hellhounds had appeared, each accompanied with a dark figure. Will and Jem pulled seraph blades from their backs, holding the angel swords in front of them. Trying to avoid the sprays of ichor from the gashes they inflicted, they were a mess of electrum, mist and swords.

The hellhounds disintegrated into ash, leaving behind only traces of silt and ichor. Will jerked his hand back, trying to keep the blade from being eaten away. The figures were gone, Jem seemingly the only one who had seen them.

"By the Angel, those hellhounds smell bad." Will complained as he sniffed, his nose wrinkling. Charlotte's gown was splattered with blood, though most of it was not her own. Will raised his hand to feel a small ragged piece of skin across his forehead but, compared to all the other wounds he had experienced, this was nothing. His hair looked crazier than ever; a black rumpled mess that covered his eyes.

Pulling a stele from his belt to draw an iratze on Will's arm, Jem pulled his parabatai over. Will waited impatiently for the iratze to be done, itching to go back to the carriage and to the Institute.

When Jem lifted his eyes from Will's iratze, Jem could see a flash of panic on his face. Pulling Jem to the side, he tried to get him out of harms way from a remaining hellhound. Though Will had fast reflexes, the hellhound was faster, biting Jem savagely in the shoulder. Wincing in pain, Jem grabbed his shoulder as Will stuck a seraph blade through the hellhound's torso. It disappeared immediately, vanishing into the air.

It hardly hurt at all, but as the poison started to pulse through his already weakened body, Jem crumpled to the ground. He forced his eyes open, staring stonily ahead of him as Will rolled him over.

The last thing Jem saw before his vision blackened was a single clockwork gear, half buried by the river silt until the tide rose and it was swept away.


	41. Chapter 41

Jem drifted in and out of consciousness as the carriage hurried back to the Institute. Charlotte was leaning over him, her small face obscured by her widened eyes, looking worriedly down at him. Will had his arm under Jem's head, prodding tentatively at his bitten shoulder. Jem tried to speak, but all that came out was a small groan as the pain started to set in.

The next thing he knew, he was being laid in the infirmary bed, Will frantically grabbing a dagger from his belt to cut away Jem's shirt from the wound. Charlotte pondered calling the Silent Brothers, but she knew they had already called upon them for too many things lately. Instead, she wiped away the blood on his shoulder, revealing the entry wound where the hellhounds teeth had ripped inside his flesh. There where still bloody teeth, glistening a sickening green and black hue.

Will's hands were shaking when he moved to pry the teeth from Jem's shoulder, causing blood to ooze and bubble out of the puncture holes. As Will pulled the last of the teeth out, it dripped audibly onto the stone floor. The blood was a dark crimson and slick, now pouring out in a heavy stream from the jagged skin around it.

Jem's eyes were glazed with agony, his forehead slicked with a sheen of sweat. Stifling a cough, his hands clawed at the blankets around him, thus making his shoulder bleed even more. His breaths were short and ragged, a thick taste of warm, salty blood coating the inside of his mouth.

"Hold this." Will ordered, shoving a small linen cloth into Charlotte's hands. He fumbled for his stele, pressing it into Jem's back. Trying to keep his hands steady as he drew an Amissio rune to slow down the blood loss, Will's eyes were a dark blue with concentration. Already, the blood started to clot, only slightly trickling down Jem's shoulder onto the stained sheets around him. However, the poison was still coursing in his veins, burning and scorching Jem's skin like fire.

Working on drawing an iratze, Will knew he would need something stronger since they were limited to non-demonic injuries. He put his hand on Jem's non-injured shoulder; his skin felt like fire under his touch.

"Charlotte." Will whispered, looking down at Jem. "We need him."

"I'm not going to ask him. He hates Nephilim." Charlotte said, setting her jaw. Her hair had fallen out of her plaits, giving her a more childish face on her smaller physique.

"I don't care if he hates us!" Will hissed between his teeth, glaring at Charlotte. "I can't heal James with an iratze. Its gone too far."

Charlotte glanced at her feet, narrowing her eyes. She sighed, crossing her arms. "Fine. I'll send a message."

**~~ooo~~**

Sophie opened the infirmary door, blushing furiously behind her brown curls of hair. She let the hooded stranger in before retreating back to do her servant chores.

"You called on me?" Magnus pushed back his hood, his cat eyes shooting a smoldering look at Will. He had to admit, blue eyes and black hair was his favorite combination, but he knew his affections would be wasted on such a person as him. Will had always been the secretive one, the cunning and sly; an opposite to his parabatai, who carried around an innocence and kindness. There was a certain darkness he carried around with him, that no matter how much he put on a sarcastic and witty mood, the look of shadows was always flickering in his eyes.

He was beautiful, but broken.

And yet, today, his eyes had nothing more than sheer worry in them; one hand set protectively over his parabatai. There was blood as well; lots of it, that coated the sheets and puddled onto the floor around the bed. "Magnus. Please help Jem."

For a moment, Magnus opened his mouth to ask how much he would be paid, or, rather, why Will would ask for his services in the first place, but when he noticed the black, spidery web of poison lacing the wound on Jem's shoulder, he knew that Jem's life was in danger. Hurrying to Jem's bedside, he tilted his head over the ghastly wound.

He pressed his fingertips to Jem's back, feeling as Will stiffened beside him, his shoulders angular with distress. Chanting an ancient spell under his breath, Magnus felt a surge of blue crackling magic curl at his fingers, fogging over Jem's wound. Almost instantly, the poison disappeared into nothingness, evaporating as if it had never been. There were dangers, however, that the poison was too far spread to have been cured all the way.

Charlotte hadn't said anything; her hands were pale and clasped in front of her. Magnus had never cared too much for Charlotte, though her husband was very intriguing with his inventions. Without waiting for their reaction, Magnus slipped his hood back on and, with a heavy heart, slipped out of the infirmary and was gone.

Will's locked stare on Charlotte finally gave her the memo that she could leave. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that Will wanted her out of the room, but despite her mixed emotions, she left the room anyway.

Jem had stirred slightly, his teeth sinking into his lip, hard enough to draw blood. Although the bite was reduced to a small bloodied patch of torn skin, Jem still winced in pain as Will knelt beside him and squeezed his hand.

"Will?" Jem slurred, his mouth feeling numb from the magic.

"Yes?" Will murmured, looking up at Jem.

"Do you think you could read me a story?"


	42. Chapter 42

"Isn't the irony of this just a trifle amusing?" Will said, pulling his chair up to the side of Jem's bed. "Here I am, at sixteen, reading to you, in which you are also sixteen, a book when you hate them...But you are the one that asked for them. You are a certified weirdo."

"I am not a certified weirdo." Jem protested, pushing himself up in a sitting position. His shoulder still ached but it was worlds better compared to how it had felt when he first got bitten.

"Okay. So maybe you haven't yet gotten your certificate of weirdness...yet, but I still stand my position. You're almost as mad as Henry." Will grinned, propping the book on his knee. "Soon, you are going to be meddling with gears and blowing things up."

"Henry is quite eccentric, but he is just as smart."

"He's not going to be happy when he finds out I took his mechanical manual and replaced it with my poetry book."

"Poor Henry." Jem said, leaning over the book. "So what happens next?"

"Are you sure you haven't been possessed by a demon?" Will said suspiciously, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"At first you say that I am possessed because I am not as fond as you when it comes to books. Now you say that I am possessed because I want to read a book." said Jem, his silver eyes gleaming. "There might be other reasons why I want to read."

"You know, James, many women have hospitalized themselves stampeding to hear my lovely seductive voice...I won't even go into what happens when I flash my piecing blue gaze in their direction." Will struck a dramatic pose, his chin placed on his fingertips. His eye twitched for a moment as he proceeded to blow a chunk of hair out of his face, thus ruining the moment. "Damn it."

Trying to stop himself from laughing, Jem smiled into his hand as he looked down. "And whose the one calling me mad?"

"We're all mad here."

"I think you ought to be the one possessed with little voices whispering in your head telling you what to do."

"I try to tell myself to ignore the voices, but sometimes, their ideas are absolutely reasonable. I mean, what idea involving Gabriel and a cliff could be bad?"

"One where it involves Gabriel pushing you off a cliff." Jem offered, shrugging slightly.

"Well, if you put it that way..." Will frowned, his nose wrinkled in disgust. "Anyway, you asked for a book, so I shall give you a book...well. Not exactly a book, more like poetry."

"Poetry?"

"Do listen. These ones are much more somber because apparently my most humorous ones are not quite your style."

"That's because they are horrendous."

"Quiet." Clearing his throat, Will held the book up and read.

"_Half a league, half a league,_  
_ Half a league onward,_  
_ All in the valley of Death_  
_ Rode the six hundred._  
_ "Forward, the Light Brigade!_  
_ "Charge for the guns!" he said:_  
_ Into the valley of Death_  
_ Rode the six hundred."_

"Valley of Death? That's not very cheerful."

"Its not supposed to be cheerful." Will flipped the page, narrowing his eyes.

"_Forward, the Light Brigade!"_  
_ Was there a man dismay'd?_  
_ Not tho' the soldier knew_  
_ Someone had blunder'd:_  
_ Theirs not to make reply,_  
_ Theirs not to reason why,_  
_ Theirs but to do and die:_  
_ Into_ the_ valley of Death_  
_ Rode the six hundred."_

"Why did they go to the Valley of Death if they knew they were going to die? That doesn't make much sense." Jem looked at Will quizzically, bringing his knees to his chest. "I would much rather turn around and leave."

Will shrugged. "Because it was their duty. Their leader told them to ride, so they must."

"Why not save themselves?"

"That would not be noble or honorable. There is no honor in life without nobility."

"What's the point of nobility of you are dead?"

"_Cannon to right of them,_  
_ Cannon to left of them,_  
_ Cannon in front of them_  
_ Volley'd and thunder'd;_  
_ Storm'd at with shot and shell,_  
_ Boldly they rode and well,_  
_ Into the jaws of Death,_  
_ Into the mouth of Hell_  
_ Rode the six hundred."_

"This just seems more like a story of courage rather than nobility and honor."

"Anyone can have bravery." Will's eyes were dark, staring at the poem. "But honor is the reason why you do something or you don't. It's a simple reflection of oneself. It defines who you are and who you would like to see."

"And who do you want to be?"

Will opened his mouth to say something, but was equally flustered at the question that should have been simple. "I want to be honorable, brave, kind, and good, but I've begun to question if such qualities in one person exist outside of the comforts of novels...and even then, they are still perfectly flawed."

"Nobody's perfect. We are all better than the demons and lower than the angels."

"...We _are_ part angel. Or so the legend says." said Will, closing the book shut. This was one of the many moments Jem yearned for his violin, to play a simple song of feelings into a simple set of notes. With the downcast of Will's eyes and the clutch of his hands holding ever so tightly on the book, yet the flush of vitality on the angles of his cheekbones, Will would make a lovely song.

Instead, Jem just fiddled absentmindedly with his hands. His shoulder hardly ached and he managed to stifle an oncoming cough.

"Will! What did you do with Henry's book?" Charlotte yelled from outside the door. "He's gone half mad trying to search your book and find where he drew his blueprints. Will? Are you listening to me?"

Jem looked up, waving Will off his bed. "Its all yours."

"Goodness. Charlotte has a set of lungs." Will sighed, standing up and putting the book on the end of the bed. "I don't think I remember where I put the book, though."

"Well, you better get looking. Charlotte is going to kill you."

Walking towards the door, Will looked back, a small grin creeping on his face. "Into the valley of Death rode the six hundred."


	43. Chapter 43

It was safe here.

The simple geometry of two walls intersecting into an edge of shadow was easy to comprehend. It was away from the outside world where the barrage of options was overwhelmingly difficult and sinister. Here, Will could just stare and be alone...of course that depended if his parabatai decided to barge into the room without knocking.

Charlotte hadn't gotten mad at him that much for misplacing Henry's book; she knew Will would be in a bad mood the next day, well, worse than he usually had. And she was right. The next morning, Will had been especially quiet and quick to agitate because of a photo that jarred the most unpleasant of memories. It was a small square photo that he kept hidden underneath his bed, tucked away gently in the folded crevices between his books. Yet, despite the clearness and clarity of the photo of the time, Will had a love-hate relationship with it.

Ella had one arm over Cecily's shoulder and one hand set on Will's. Of course, Will had on his uniquely photogenic scowl, boring angry holes into the camera lens. He was very young; ten or perhaps eleven, depending on the date it was taken. Unlike how he looked now, he was tall and as thin as his sisters, his blue eyes set delicately into his perfectly angled face, mused by a mess of black hair. Unfortunately, as camera's could not capture color, the only hinting of the hue of Will's eyes were represented in dark gray glints of shadow's. Will hated the fact that he would have been a very pretty girl.

Five years ago on this day, Will had left Whales, the day his sister had been killed. For so long he had tried to push back the memories, but he had been so unwilling to get rid of the picture. Jem was usually the one to be sentimental, but Will had secretly cherished this photograph with the reluctant intent to throw it away.

Despite the unpleasant memories it carried, it also had good ones. Like the time Ella had tenderly bandaged Will's finger when he had gotten bitten by the mallard, or when they had celebrated his eighth birthday with an unusually big party. However, not even the fondest of times could erase the guilt that had haunted him for so long.

"Will?" Jem opened the door, surprised to find Will staring into the corner of his room like a warlock in a trance. "You've been awfully quiet."

Will sighed; it seemed that he was right when it came to knowing his parabatai, he suspected Jem would come in sooner or later. Shoving the picture back under his bed, Will turned around to face Jem.

"Are you quite alright? You look like as if you've seen a ghost." Jem said, closing the door behind them. "You know I have never pressured you or anything of the sorts, but if anything is wrong, I would be more than happy to listen."

"I'm fine." said Will, careful to hide his forlorn expression. He had mastered the art of masking his emotions until he wasn't sure what was real and what was fake. Almost positive Jem couldn't see through him, Will stood up and shrugged. "Just thinking."

To Will's dismay, Jem looked utterly skeptical. "Well, then. If you are just 'thinking', as you put it, then I'm sure you'll be quite fine if I drag you off to a place I've just been yearning to show you."

"I don't think I would be in the mood for such a thing." Will frowned, pulling a book from his shelf. Jem took the book out of his hands and pulled him outside of his bedroom.

"It'll help get your mind off of things." Jem smiled sympathetically, his eyes focused on the small photograph that was slightly visible underneath the bed. "And I'm sure, once you see where we are, you'll be in the mood for what I want you to see."

**~~ooo~~**

"I should have shown this to you a long time ago. I remember passing by it and just thinking how much you would love it." Jem pulled Will out of the carriage and into the throng of people that surrounded the Westminster Abbey. "For someone as well-read as you, I am thoroughly surprised that you haven't been here before." With his head kept low and his brows furrowed, he followed Jem into the building. Passing a few pillars and rooms, they neared an enormous hall with a few mundanes shuffling in and out with books in their hands.

Before Will had to be one of the largest libraries he had seen. The Institute library was mention-ably large, but it held mostly books that explained how to kill demons. On the other hand, this expansive array of shelves and monuments held much more treasured books of adventure, drama, romance, and fantasy. Will took a moment to ogle at the sight in front of him like a little kid looking at a pile of sweets.

Jem studied Will's face, admiring how it so sparingly lit up when he was excited. Though Jem had never been one for books and poetry, the clear happiness etched on Will's face was enough for him.

"_Mae'r llyfrau! O, mae'r llyfrau nefol!" The books! Oh, the heavenly books! _Will immediately went to one of the shelves, flipping through the pages. Jem shook his head amusedly, following his parabatai around as he grabbed books from shelves, no doubt frightening some of the mundanes. They cast puzzled glances in Will's direction, but Will, too immersed in finding a novel to read, ignored them, or rather, didn't see them.

"I thought you would like it." Jem said, fixing his hat.

"Sordello! The Moonstone! Hamlet!" Will pulled books from the shelf, setting them in a pile by his feet. "Have you been keeping this a secret, James?"

"What? No!" Jem stumbled over his words, flustered. "I just remembered it now-" Jem's sentence was cut off when Will gave him a book for him to hold, obviously too impatient to listen to what Jem had to say.

By the end of the day, Will and Jem left the Westminster Abbey Poets Corner with a mound of books in the side of the carriage.

Already, Will was reading one of his novels, forgetting where he was and why they had gone out in the first place.


	44. Chapter 44

"There. Now it looks fine. No...You are making it crooked again." Jem straightened Will's tie, fixing the collar of his elegant suit. Will scowled, crossing his arms, only to mess up his violet tie for the hundredth time. With an exasperated sigh, Jem tightened it, ignoring the fact that Will choked in protest.

"Why do I have to wear _this?_" Will complained, holding out his arms.

"Its a Christmas party. You're supposed to look nice." Jem said as if he were addressing a small child. "You need to look acceptable. Charlotte did say to be at your finest, but I doubt she was talking about clothing."

"Then what do you suppose she was talking about."

"Your attitude! You are hated by almost all of the guests because of your manner of speaking." Stepping back, Jem nodded. "I suppose you look alright."

"Suppose? I could wear a ladies dress and still look gorgeous." Will went to instinctively move his hair out of his face when he realized it had been slicked back into a classy hairstyle, which, in other words, meant that Will hated it. Jem looked at ease, slipping his pearly white gloves onto his hands and pulling the cusp of his jacket over the clasps. A soft, pleasant smile graced Jem's mouth, which would have been absolutely charming if Will's constant glare didn't always scare people off.

"Are you ready to go out, then?" Jem said softly. Then again, he was always soft, almost shy, at the parties. Will had always been loud enough, and rude enough, for the both of them. On the other hand, Jem was quiet, scanning the crowds curiously and engaging only in bits and pieces of small talk.

"_The path to paradise begins in hell_." Will moved to open the door, Jem following him. "Dante is quite right when it comes to hell."

"Its warm?" Jem inquired without much interest.

"Well, the ninth circle of hell is frozen over, but that hardly is the point." Will pushed open the door, his mouth drawn up in disgust when he saw the mass of people in the London Institute main hall. "I'd rather get a million needles seared into my skin than go to another blasted Christmas party."

Women in absurdly adorned dresses gawked at the other men, waving their fans in front of them. Jessamine led a group of girls, obviously not very excited in the prospect of being surrounded by other Shadowhunters. It had seemed as if the whole place had been drenched in lace and pearls, hiding all other designs from sight. Gabriel and Gideon were in one side of the room, their stormy green eyes cutting through the room in disdain.

Jem pulled at Will's arm, biting his lip subconsciously as he looked at the overwhelming sight. "Might as well make the best of it, Will."

"Best? Hah. I'm going to go grab a drink." Will stalked off into the crowd, leaving Jem staring hopelessly behind him. Turning around, he sputtered an apology when he nearly hit into a very tall and extremely voluptuous, creepy Shadowhunter woman. She said something profusely in French before moving to greet another one of the guests.

Charlotte was nearby, her dress abnormally dressed up to the occasion. _Henry, _Jem guessed, _probably refused to come out to the party. He isn't exactly the most sociable and I doubt he would want to come to a Christmas party._ For once, Jem almost agreed with him, wondering what would be the best way to slip out and join Henry in the basement. While being blown up or set on fire would be one of the risks, Jem couldn't stand just wandering aimlessly through the party halls. At least there might be something he could do in the basement.

However, Jem just migrated towards the wall and leaned against it nonchalantly. He was lonely without his parabatai, and inwardly hoped for someone to talk to. While he was not as talkative as Will sometimes was, he still felt the need to be part of a conversation. Instead, he was passed by as if he were not there and had blended into the beige wallpaper of the hall.

Then, out of the crowd of people. Will stumbled out, his mouth reddening with blood. "I'm done with this stupid party!"

"What happened now?" Jem asked, pulling Will out of harms way. "I don't get how you manage to get hit every single year at the Christmas parties. Who was it? Gabriel? Gideon?"

"No. That monster." Will pointed at a young woman next to Jessamine, who face was twisted in a look of hatred. Will muttered something under his breath that sounded vaguely like, "She's sofa king dump."

Jem sighed inwardly. "What did you do?"

"I'm not telling you. But I just don't understand how comparing two women is considered offensive." Will said placidly, ignoring Jem's look of incredulous horror.

"You did not."

"Oh, but I did." Will said smugly, wiping blood from his mouth. His hair had been mused, his tie still crooked, and now there was a small blood stain on his sleeve. Jem put his face in his hands, trying not to snap. Grabbing his parabatai by the wrist, he marched Will to the corner of the room.

"This is what Charlotte is talking about."

"What?" Will frowned.

"You angering the guests. You know, George Penhallow nearly reported you to the Clave last time for trying to put acid on the drink bar."

Will shrugged innocently. "They wouldn't give me my drink, plus he's a huge pain in the-"

"I get it. Just try to be more friendly and welcoming." Jem nudged Will good-naturedly back into the throng of people. "I'm going to be in my room."

"And I'll be at the drink bar." Will clicked his tongue before heading off to get his drink. Jem turned around, hoping that his parabatai wouldn't get into any more trouble.


	45. Chapter 45

Jem paced his room with agitation, ignoring the sweaty veil of hair that covered his eyes. His fingernails dug into his palms, creating red crescents in his pale skin. Charlotte hadn't seen Will leave the Institute but he had been gone for quite a while; the party had ended hours ago. _He's probably just wandering the streets...Perhaps slightly drunk from all the drinks he had tonight, _Jem tried to console himself, with no avail.

Even Jessamine seemed slightly worried, her small mouth pinched in a small grim line. Of course, though, she had retired to her room when Charlotte asked if she wanted to help clean up. With a hopeful smile on her small face, Charlotte had assured that Will would come back soon, but whether he would come back in one piece was the real question.

Stooping to pick up his stele, Jem considered using a tracking rune to find Will, but quickly pushed that thought aside when he saw the state of the outside weather. It was pouring; sheets of water barreling down at the sullen streets. A few 'dollymops' were visible in the pail light of the moon, their ratted hair and exposed corsets filthy and damp from the rain. They leaned sullenly on the sides of the buildings that lined the London streets, trying to stay as dry as possible.

Jem's thoughts quickly dissipated when Will opened the door and limped in. He was holding his leg and he had a cut on his cheek. His clothes, which were once quite clean and elegant, were now torn and drenched in rain. Usually his eyes were a dark blue, but they were hazed with a bloodshot look of exhaustion. He reeked of alcohol, no doubt from the Christmas party. Despite Will bedraggled condition, Jem rushed to his side and helped Will into a chair. Sitting awkwardly in the chair, Will's face was twisted in a pained scowl.

"By the Angel, where do you go?" Jem asked, wiping mud from his arm.

"This time...I really don't know." Will slurred, rubbing his temples. "I was walking down the street and into a shop, then I did something and another of the sorts and blacked out."

"That's not really as descriptive as you could be...What were you doing out in the rain?"

"It wasn't raining when I left. I was feeling rather offended that this one particular sandy-haired and hideously green-eyed Shadowhunter insulted Wales, so I went to go seek solace in drinks and my birthplace."

"You couldn't actually have gone to Wales. You're drunk, Will. Sleep it off." Jem moved to pull him up when Will held up an impatient hand.

"I was walking down the street and talking about the sheep singing and the dragons and I met this other man and I don't really remember what happened after that." Will frowned, shifting on the chair. "All I remember was waking up and falling off an abnormally splintery table with a sharp pain. Then I looked and they had tattooed the bloody Welsh Dragon on me. Don't get me wrong, the ale in Wales is fabulous, but I don't love it that much to get the Welsh Dragon tattooed on a very private area."

"Private area?" Jem stifled a laugh, turning away so Will couldn't see the dark flush on his cheeks. "I'm sure the fault is none but your own."

"What a supportive parabatai, you bloody bastard." Will grimaced, tugging at his waistcoat. "_Mae'r nain gwaedlyd a'r hwyaid cachu yn y ffynnon yn jyst yn mynd i fy lladd a bwyta fy nghorff marw._"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not Welsh, but I understood enough of what you said...And it still doesn't make any sense. For starters, ducks, grandmother, and kill should never be in the same sentence."

"It meant," Will said drunkenly, "The grandmother and the bloody duck shit in the well is just going to kill me and eat my body dies."

"That still doesn't make the slightest sense." Jem looked at Will in puzzlement, a small smile playing on his mouth. "I still cannot believe you just went out and got a tattoo of the Welsh Dragon. You really do need to get a grip on your...problems."

"To each their own. If you wanted to get a tattoo of a naked woman on your forehead, I wouldn't judge you any different."

"I am not going-"

"Scratch that. Actually, I would." Will sighed dramatically, pushing his hair from his face. "Can't you at least try to understand my endeavors. In Raziel's name, James, you are acting too saint-like for my taste. I need a drink. You need a drink as well. You need to go put acid on Henry's inventions. I think I've only heard you swear about 5-"

"3 times." Jem corrected, sitting down on the trunk at the base of his bed. "If you count bloody hell as a swear word."

"That doesn't count."

"Stupid?"

"Of course not."

"Damn?"

"No."

"Idiot?"

"In what sane world is idiot a swear word?"

"Mine."

"You live a sad, sullen life, James. Do you even know what a sin is? Do you know what a pub is? Do you know what a brothel is?"

"I know what a brothel is! I'm not a dullard, just a-"

"Just a what?" Will's eyes glinted in amusement. "Oh, never mind. It's worthless talking to you. Someday, I tell you, I will get you to drop your saint-like act and show you the real world."

"And be what you have become? I think I'll stay here."

"If you mean that I have become remarkably handsome, I would say you need a dose of whatever I do as well."

"Gracious, Will-"

"Gracious?" Will queried, confused. "Who uses gracious nowadays?"

"I do. Now, it's quite late at night and I want to sleep. So, you can go with your new dragon of Wales into your room and sleep." Jem said, pushing a very exasperated Will from his armchair. Will just glared at him and crawled back in the chair, burying his head in his knees. Jem sighed in resignation, wondering why he always had to deal with his drunk, and often delusional, parabatai.


	46. Chapter 46

Jem ran his bow over the violin strings, his fingers quivering with concentration. Shutting his eyes, he tried to remember where his fingertips were supposed to press. He crossed his legs on the trunk at the end of his bed, grimacing when he hit the wrong note.

Will groaned in annoyance, opening his eyes groggily. "People are trying to sleep here."

"You _are_ in _my_ room." Jem pointed out, repositioning the violin at his throat. He moved the bow, emitting a much more pleasant and lyrical song from his violin. Will just sighed, rubbing his eyes and moving his still-damp hair from his face. Looking at his wrist, Will looked at it in confusion.

"I don't remember drawing an iratze."

"I drew it. You fell asleep in _my_ chair and your cheek was bleeding on _my _sheet and your arm had a scratch that was getting grime on _my _wall, not to mention your...tattoo."

"Oh, so everything is just yours now? Should I leave so I stop breathing in _your _air and annoying _your _violin?"

"Be my guest." Jem smiled, a friendly and infectious smile that Will couldn't help but look at and smile back. Pushing himself up reluctantly, Will grabbed his black cutaway jacket from the back of the chair and studied the torn cusp of his sleeve. He pawed at it, his eyebrows immediately furrowing in annoyance.

"Damn it." Will swore tiredly, his blue eyes covered in a shade of dark lashes.

Jem sighed, setting his violin down. "It tore."

"Good work, Sherlock." Will said sarcastically, ignoring the fact that Jem had absolutely no idea of what he was talking about. "I suppose that the servant girl can sew it back up. Speaking of that servant, has she set out breakfast? I'm starved."

"I'm sure she has. Normally she sets it out at about this time." Pulling a waistcoat over his white button up, Jem gestured for Will to come on out. The smell of toast and eggs immediately wafted into their room, making them realize how hungry they were. Then again, Will was always hungry and would eat anything that was set in front of him, unless it was duck. Of course, the only time Will had seen duck served on a platter was when Jem insisted taking them to the only Asian restaurant in town, which Jem deemed as almost inedible.

Pulling out a chair, Jem sat in front of Will, away from Jessamine who was eating her toast lazily with a fork. She nibbled at the edges, keeping her toast suspended in the air at the end of her fork as she chewed. Charlotte and Henry were no where to be see, probably working on legal documents and more pointless inventions that only served to set things on fire.

The pile of toast looked mouth-wateringly appetizing, but Jem reached for a cup of tea instead. On the other hand, Will grabbed a strawberry from a platter, tossing it into the air and catching it in his mouth.

"Repulsive." Jessamine said under her breath, licking butter from her lips.

"Says the worthless upstart who wears a pound of makeup caked onto her face." Will made a face at Jessamine before reaching for another strawberry.

"Excuse me sir, I am a lady."

"Sir? As in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? You mean the man who created Sherlock? Jessamine! You have brains!"

"What in God's name are you blathering about?"

Jem took another sip of his tea, looking placidly at Will. "He's currently in a-"

"Delusional state." Will said cheerfully. "I can say my own sentences, Jem. I haven't gotten old and senile...yet. I'm not mute!"

"Thank Raziel you're not mute or you'd be making obscene gestures to illustrate all of your points."

"Touché, James. Touché." Pulling out a newspaper from the bottom of a platter, Will looked at it with scorn. "The only headlines in here are about new clothes and things of the oddest sorts. What in the world is a crinoline? Look what it says here: _Kohl Shop, Magic Sleep Remedies__._"

"Then you should probably read it." Jessamine said casually, setting down her toast. "Especially you, James. Dear me, you look as if you could die any second from the looks of you. Oh tosh, the dark circles underneath your eyes aren't the only thing that make you look that deathly."

Jem froze, his hand gripping the thin china teacup, his silver eyes wide, but flat. With a quick motion of his hand, he pushed his teacup forward, sloshing tea onto the lacy tablecloth. Jem then stood up and slunk from the room, his teeth biting into his lip. Will bristled, narrowing his eyes at Jessamine.

"Why did you do that?" Will seethed with anger, wanting nothing more than to walk over to Jessamine and slap the haughty expression on her face. Unfortunately, it was against even Will's values to strike a girl.

"I mean, he doesn't look that bad. Maybe a trifle tired and-"

"I wasn't talking about how he looks. You know he despises it when people talk about...it."

"He talks about it."

"If he wants to talk about his illness, then so he shall. But you, you know _nothing_ about anything he goes through and have absolutely no right to say that!" Will jumped to his feet, his blue eyes blazing with fury. "You stay away from him, Jessamine." Will spat the last word out with disgust, then spun on his heel and after Jem. Pausing at Jem's door, he contemplated just walking in to see if he was alright, but something told him that he should knock instead.

When there was no answer to his knocking and anxious calls, Will sank to the floor, leaning his back against the wall next to Jem's door. He doubted Jem was angry; it seemed like too forthright an emotion for such a calm person as he was. But there was something fragile about him, like a china cup where one blow could shatter it. However, despite Jem's delicate nature, he had always been able to suppress his feelings with a nod and a smile.

It was odd, though, that Jem wasn't answering Will's knock on his door. He wasn't normally this standoffish, especially not with his parabatai. Deep in his chest, Will could feel that something was utterly wrong.

**Author's Note: To Miss-98: Hi. I read your review saying how the word 'okay' was not used and might have not been created yet. Actually, the word was first documented in American Speech in 1863 by the author Allen Walker Read. He talked about the origins of 'okay' and how that word came to be. Despite this, I'm happy to see people are paying attention to the technical side of things in the story. I hope this clarifies things a bit.**


	47. Chapter 47

Glancing back wistfully at Jem's room, Will returned to his own, not knowing what to do without his parabatai by his side. He considered going to the Devil's Tavern, but he knew Jem would disapprove. He also contemplated annoying the vampires that were getting dangerously aggressive at Will's unruly behavior. However, Will just pulled a book from a stack in his room that he had gotten from the Poet's Corner.

It was The Wide, Wide World, definitely not one of Will's favorites but it would have to do. _Fools, they all are, _Will thought smugly, _thinking that they are being watched over in this world. Especially that Ellen girl. She thinks everything in life is caused by God._ Rolling his eyes, Will flipped to the next page. Shadowhunters had never established a religion to adapt to, but Will, unlike some, was doubtful that there was anyone in the world looking out for him. If there was a God, why was there so much sin in this world?

A ragged cough startled Will from his thoughts. Throwing the book on his bed, he ran out of his room and threw Jem's door open. Jem had one hand holding him up, resting on the end of his bed, and one hand covering his mouth. His eyes, which were as pale as marble, were slitted with fear. He looked at Will, his pupils like pinpricks of ash against a wisp of cloud. Wiping away blood with his sleeve, he staggered away from Will. Catching him by the wrist, Will dug his fingernails into Jem's stark white cotton shirt. Though Jem didn't wince, he tried to desperately get out of Will's grasp.

"Did you already have some today?" Will asked, his voice rising frantically.

"I...I...I did. This morning-" Jem said between the coughs that ripped through his body. "It's nothing. I'm-"

"Nothing?" Will snatched the silver box that was next to Jem's bed, then made his way across the room to mix the drug with water. Careful to pour it into the glass, Will watched as the once clear water turned a dark sheen of gray. Turning around the check on Jem, he looked just in time to see his parabatai crumple to the ground.

Setting the glass down with a bang, Will was immediately at Jem's side. Kneeling by Jem, he shook his shoulders. "James? James, you bastard. Wake up!" When there was no answer, Will heaved Jem onto his bed. Though Jem was tall, taller than Will, he was light, making it easy for Will to pull him on the bed. Crossing the room in a few strides, Will took the drugged water and sat next to Jem. Propping him up, Will forced the water into his mouth.

Jem sputtered, choking on the water that ran down his throat. He tried to move but when he did, the blood rushed from his head, leaving him lightheaded and dizzy. The walls of darkness closed in on him, pressing down on his body until all he could feel was the burning sensation that numbed his mouth.

Then the nightmares started.

It was always the same: the same two coal, red eyes that stared at him through the darkness, the familiar screams that had often echoed in mind for the last six years, and the fire, the hot, searing pain in his chest that clawed at him every time he took a breath. He saw London engulfed in flames and everyone he cared for going down with it.

It came in bits and pieces, flashing before his eyes until the darkness misted around him again and everything went fuzzy. He was paralyzed; he couldn't move, speak, or breath. Suddenly, it felt as if a searing brand of fire was laid on his wrist, jolting him out of unconsciousness.

Will watched as his parabatai looked around wildly, blood still spotting the edges of his mouth. His eyes were wide, but were flat and unfocused. His breathing came in shallow and uneven gasps, his hair pasted to his forehead with sweat. Will pushed Jem's wrist down, trying to keep Jem from deliriously struggling to pry his hand off of him. Muttering something in Mandarin, Jem clawed at Will's arm, pulling himself up into a seated position.

Another bout of coughs ran through Jem, blood splattering the coverlet around him. He tried to use his sleeve to clean the blood from his mouth, but it just smeared it across the lower half of his face, giving him the strange likeness to a newly fed vampire.

"Charlotte!" Will called, hating how much he sounded like a child; he couldn't just leave Jem here to go get her. Charlotte rushed into the room, Sophie trailing behind her, her mouth an O with worry.

"Goodness. Sophie, do go get a cold water cloth." Charlotte ordered. Such a stern and an agitated face on such a petite stature looked unlikely, but Charlotte always wore such an expression, so Will was used to it. He wasn't looking at Charlotte anyway; his attention was solely on Jem, whose clothes were stained with blood. His thin shoulders shook again as he cough, a thin line of blood dribbling down his mouth. Charlotte spun on her heels, no doubt going to call the Silent Brothers and summon them from the city from whence they came.

Passing by the room, Jessamine glanced in once and sighed. Her hands were rested on a new parasol that Henry had made her which the edges, to her dismay, were lined in electrum razor. She had never liked Jem, or anyone for the matter and refused to help anyone but Charlotte. Even so, Jessamine only agreed to help with the paper files and researches.

But now, a flash of sympathy, and a trifle of disgust, passed through her eyes as she looked at Jem before strolling along on her 'walk' through the Institute. Will hadn't noticed Jessamine pass by. He put his head on his hands and, for the first time in six years, Will prayed that Jem would be alright.

He prayed that Jem would live.


	48. Chapter 48

_We have done all that we can. Only time will tell us now._ Brother Enoch drew his hood back over his scarred face, disappearing into the shadows of his papery robes. Will made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.

"That's all you can do?" Will said angrily, scowling at the Silent Brother. Brother Enoch didn't change his expression, or rather, couldn't change his expression. His mouth was sown shut, his eyes missing, and had runes slashed over his face. Despite his eerie presence, Charlotte and Will seemed perfectly at ease when it came to being in the same room as him. The only thing that unsettled Will was Brother Enoch's lack of ability to make Jem better.

_Patience, William Herondale. Our magic can only go so far. We do not control the strings of fate, we can only help to divert them._

"And what are you insinuating by that?"

Charlotte cleared her throat. "What he means, Will, is that things happen and we can't do anything about them. So I suggest you stop arguing and focus on doing something useful." Despite her firm tone, her mouth was upturned in apparent distraught. She turned to the Silent Brother, looking tiredly at him. "Allow me to show you out." This was the first time Will had noticed how run down she looked: her hair was unmade and her eyes were shadowed by the black patches beneath them. She was wearing one of her drab and rumpled dresses, which did nothing to hide the fact that she was incredibly pale and sallow faced.

"What am I supposed to do? Go on living my merry, little life and pretend there is nothing wrong? You might have an easy enough time doing just that, but I would rather be more productive. By the Angel, your husband should try doing the same."

Charlotte's cheeks had gone a splotchy, red and white color. She beckoned the Silent Brother outside, where she closed Will and Jem in the room. Will could hear Charlotte talking, something about "a few months" and "without a cure, death is inevitable." He didn't need to hear any more of what they were talking about to piece together what they were probably conversing about, even though he only heard Charlotte's side of the conversation. He glanced at Jem, who would have looked stunningly peaceful and ethereal with his silver hair and his closed eyes that had lashes like silvery strands of silk if he didn't have spots of blood on his chin and clothes.

Without a cure, death is inevitable.

Will desperately tried to block out what Charlotte had said and instead sat by Jem. He put his hand over Jem's and gave it a reassuring squeeze, pressing his fingers against the light and fluttering pulse in his wrist. He thought that, for a moment, Jem had moved, but when Will looked at him, Jem was still sleeping, his mouth set in a neutral line.

He considered going to get his book, but he knew that not even Willkie Collins and his mysteries or Tennyson and his poems could do anything to distract him from reality. Besides, he didn't want to leave Jem's side anyway. The bouts of coughing had gotten worse lately and had taken longer to recover from than they had been when he was younger.

Will hadn't thought about his curse in a long while, convinced that no one could ever love him because of the way he had treated them. That is everyone, except for Jem. _He's dying anyway._ Will told himself, but couldn't hide the pang of guilt that still swam through his mind.

This time, when Will studied Jem's face, Jem really had changed expression, blinking open tired eyes. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"Was I out?"

"Oh. Only for a few hours." Will shrugged. He smoothed his hair back, tucking it behind his ears. Jem's hand sought Will's, his thin fingers wrapping around Will's wrist. When Will had first moved to London, his skin had been tanned by the Wales country weather and sunny days, but now, it had paled in the fogginess and gloominess of London. Even so, Will's skin still looked immensely darker than Jem's, who had skin like recently fallen snow.

"I had the oddest of dreams."

"More hallucinations of me falling in love with the statue of Venus?"

Jem sputtered, his mouth quirking up into a tired smile. "Did you want them to be?"

"It depends. Was she entirely clothed or just partially?"

Laughing breathily, Jem closed his eyes. "No. I had a dream that you were just shaking me and calling me obscene names. Then, you got mad at Brother Enoch."

"Er-" Will said awkwardly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "That might have not been a dream. Charlotte called for the Silent Brothers after you...had one of those coughing fits."

"Oh." Jem murmured, opening his eyes slightly. They were dark silver, darker than his hair, and lined with a row of delicate, silver lashes. "I suppose you calling me a bastard wasn't a dream either."

"Did the James Carstairs just swear?" Will asked incredulously.

"I didn't swear. I merely repeated the word. Swearing is when you use an offensive word, especially as an expression of anger. Of course, swear can also be defined as making a solemn statement or promise undertaking to do something or affirming that something is the case."

"Dear God, have you been stealing The Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language, the one that they published in 1860? That is an evil book filled with utterly confusing nonsense."

"What? I don't remember the year it was published and I just looked at a few of the pages."

"I knew it. You were plotting world domination all along." Will said triumphantly, grinning at Jem's exasperated expression. "By the Angel, if that's how our lives are going to be, I might as well go befriend Jessamine. At least she is witless enough to not know what a dictionary is."

"What would I use to take over the world in the first place?"

"I don't know. Your kind invented the...what are they called? Fintolk guns?"

"Flintlock." Jem corrected, heaving an enormous sigh and burying his head in his hands. "That was the Japanese, idiot. China and Japan are _very_ different countries." Coughing slightly, Jem covered his mouth. Will froze, but relaxed when he saw that there was no blood.

"Don't. Cough. Ever. Again." Will muttered, frowning.

"Even if I have dust in my throat?"

"Even then." Will looked down at Jem's hand, which was still firmly clasped around Will's wrist. "If you cough, I'm going to go to Hyde Park and sacrifice myself to the ducks and let them walk over my dead body and eat me and feed me to their master ducks."

To Will's dismay, Jem just smiled. "I like ducks."

**Author's Note: To LightwoodLady25- Hmm. Yes. Er...about that... :P Perhaps Will just magically got superhuman hearing for a few minutes...Damn it. I just realized Will's bedroom was one of the corner rooms in the edge of the Institute. Errrrr...It's all the ducks fault.**


	49. Chapter 49

"That's it." Will threw his hands up in resignation. "I'm going to go sacrifice myself to the ducks. When you see them ripping my fingers off one by one, and my gorgeous face, ruined, then you will see that I was serious" Will said as Jem coughed slightly. There were small flecks of blood on Jem's hand, but neither of them seemed to notice.

"I'll be up and about tomorrow. We have an easy mission." Jem said, rubbing his eyes. "It's just the vampires have been feeding on mundanes near the edge of the Thames. It's a pity that they have been leaving body parts strewn around; makes our job much too simple."

"If you want, I can hide the body parts for you."

"What I meant." Jem slowly said, pulling the new, ivory coverlet around him. "Is that it is almost too obvious. They have been getting quite careless and...out of character. Something must be wrong."

"Good Heavens, something is always wrong. Why can't something just be normal for once?"

"Define normal."

Will opened his mouth for a moment, but then closed it when he realized he didn't know how to answer the question. What was normal? If there was such a thing, Will was definitely not on either side on the equation and neither was Jem for that matter. Instead, he just shrugged. "How are you feeling?"

"I'll be quite able to do tomorrow's expedition."

"But how are _you _feeling?"

Jem hesitated, furrowing his eyebrows. "I'm fine."

Giving Jem a skeptical glance, Will busied himself with pouring the water mixed with the drug into a small cup. He gave it to Jem, scowling subconsciously at the drug box. Downing it in one gulp, Jem set the empty glass onto the night table, next to his silver box. Because of Jem's more frequent intake of the drug when he was sick, his eyes were as silver as ever, seeming to glow in the pale light of the late dawn. However, it gave him a healthy flush on his cheeks, and he looked less pale than he had been.

Will wasn't sure if he should be happy about that or not.

**~~ooo~~**

Jem was lonely.

He had convinced Will he was feeling fine and that he should go eat, though he doubted Will needed much convincing in the first place. Like animals, Will was very food motivated and would normally do anything when it came to getting extra food from the kitchen. Plucking gently at the recently rosined strings, Jem hummed gently with the bright staccato tune. Without Will, he was alone. But without Will, he could be in peace.

_I'll have plenty enough of that._ Jem thought bitterly. _Whether it be in this life, or the next. _Setting down his violin, he ran his hand along the side of it. In the silence of the room, he could almost hear his thudding heartbeat and the blood that rushed to his head when he moved.

_I always have accepted the fact that I will die, but does Will? I have lived for me, and yet, the one thing that tethers me to this world is him. For his sake, I fight to live, and for his sake, I do not part with him. Dear God, I'm starting to sound all wordy like Will. _Trying to ignore the creeping lassitude and sharp pain in his chest, Jem pushed himself up and pulled his knees to his chest. His hand was still rested on his violin, it's feel like a comforting touch from an old friend. It had amazed him how much he had changed the past few years; from hoping they would find a cure, to hoping that Will hadn't gotten himself into more trouble.

Will was the center of Jem's world, and Jem was the center of his.

Or so Jem liked to think. A small part of Jem wondered if Will actually did care...despite all of the completely unforgivable things Will had ever done. Jem liked to think that underneath all of the lies and the grief and anger Will had brought upon others, there was a noble and kind person, much like the characters Will had often described in his books. However, what if this was the real Will? Perhaps the Will Jem had always longed to see was merely a wish that had changed his perspective. What if this was it?

Will swung the door open, his suit covered in a thin layer of ash. "By the Angel!" Grimacing as he wiped off his face, he stumbled into a chair. "I swear, if Henry tries to make another one of those blasted things that blow up when you throw them, I'm going to use them on his lab in the basement."

Jem looked up, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Ah, so it was actually supposed to blow up this time?"

"Quite so." Will inhaled the ash on accident, causing him to gag and cough. "And Charlotte allows him to carry on with his preposterous ideas. No wonder nobody likes him."

"I don't mind Henry." Jem shrugged, unfazed. "Sure, he nearly set my room on fire, but he didn't mean to. It was nothing, really."

"Oh, and I'm sure him spewing dead fish from his metal box on the Clave and exploding the kitchen was nothing as well. Thank the Angel we have Sophie to clean up this whole bloody mess."

"Just because we have a servant doesn't mean you can go around and dirtying things up," Jem gave his armchair a solemn look, "like my room. Now I'm going to have to clean it...again."

"Well at least you have something to look forward to something tomorrow."

"And what is that?"

"Besides the privilege of my company, vampires." Will smirked, his blue eyes glittering. "It's always a pleasure to fight vampires."

**Author's Note: YAY! 100 reviews! Thanks so much everyone!**


	50. Chapter 50

Jem took a gulp of water mixed with the Yin Fen before slipping on a heavy jacket over his waistcoat. Lacing up his heavy shoes, he grabbed a stele and his weapons belt. Will opened Jem's door, dressed in gear as well. "Are you ready to go? Thomas has been waiting."

Buckling his weapon's belt, Jem nodded. "I'm coming. Where are we going again?"

"Some rogue vampires have been attacking near the Saint Paul's Cathedral. Giving the mundanes a dreadful fright, I've heard." Will marched into the living room, nearly running into Jessamine. They both scowled, narrowing their eyes.

"I've never cared for vampires." Jem said lightly, following Will.

"I truly agree with that point. The last one I ran into was such a bas-"

"William. You're just charming aren't you. Why don't you exercise your exquisitely articulate and vast vocabulary somewhere else?" Jem interrupted, giving Jessamine a cursory glance.

"Bad vampire." Will said hastily, finishing his sentence. He swung the Institute door open, waiting until Jem walked out to close it. "Ahoy, there Thomas! Bring the carriage closer, will you?" Will called out, beckoning lazily to Thomas. Sighing in exasperation, Thomas just smiled weakly and was forced to oblige.

"Honestly, Will. How does anyone, besides me of course, stand to be in your company for more than five minutes."

Will took in a dramatically sharp breath, raising his hand in mock surprise to his chest. "Five minutes? Five minutes? That long? It used to be five seconds. I must be doing something absolutely wrong. Perhaps I should try picking up a new preposterous hobby. What do you say, James? Shall it be beating Lilith up for fun or pursuing the ever so intriguing career as a brothel manager?"

"Will, you-"

"Of course, instead of a brothel manager, I could just work with the ladies. Just think of that! Me, a gentlemen, working as-"

"Yes, but you are not a gentlemen. Why don't you just focus on Shadowhunting?"

"Been there. Done that." Will dismissed, climbing into the carriage. "You lot don't know anything about excitement, do you?"

"I think you need a dictionary to look up the definition of excitement, because we obviously don't have the same idea." Jem grinned amusedly, sitting on the seat opposite of Will.

"My version of excitement-" The carriage jolted forward, causing Will, who was very unprepared, to fall on the floor. He let out a string of curses in Welsh and English, resulting in the most obscure sounding phrases. Jem could hardly contain a laugh as Will pushed himself up, rubbing his chin. "By the Angel, even Thomas doesn't seem to like me."

"Or he has good taste." Jem shrugged, fixing his shirt collar.

"Who are you to speak about good taste? You have the worst taste in all the history of the Shadowhunters."

Jem raised an eyebrow, looking briskly at Will. "Well, since I have deemed you as my friend-"

"More of a brother really."

"Fine. Brother. I guess I do have bad taste."

"Are you suggesting that the reason why we are parabatai is simply a fault in your bad taste?"

"Something along those lines." Jem smiled, earning a small, reluctant grin from Will. Peering out of the carriage, Jem could see Saint Paul's Cathedral rising out of the cities, looking regal against the pitifully smaller buildings of London. Jem had to admit that it was quite beautiful; the white dome and the towers that edged the white structure. However, the usually bustling cathedral was quiet, a few spare mundanes strolling the yards. Jem closed the carriage curtain as the carriage stopped. He followed Will outside, pulling a stele from his weapons belt.

Though Thomas was a mundane, he hopped off the carriage and grabbed a claymore for himself. Drawing a rune to glamour himself, Jem did the same for Will. "There. Now the mundanes won't see us. Err, except for Thomas." Finally, with their runes activated and their weapons in hand, they went to go search the cathedral's corridors. Jem moved to the front, leading the way through a dark tunnel. "Come on Thomas. Do you think they are around here somewhere?"

"Possibly. The last mundane killing Charlotte told us about was not much earlier than when we left." Will said, pulling out a witchlight. Thomas stood in between them, his sword held in front of him. "But I'm sure we'll be able to-"

A large shape barreled into Will, knocking him to the ground. It's hand was against Will's throat, narrowing it's beady black eyes. "Foolish Nephilim. Invading our territory. The Clave does not think highly of intruders."

Will coughed. "Oooh. Someone needs a mint."

"William!" Jem sighed. "Why does it seem that you always manage to forget looking behind you?"

"Then you take the back next time!"

"Must I do all the work?"

"All the work? I tracked down our vampire fellow or...err, he tracked down me." Will muttered, looking up at the vampire that crouched on his chest. "Speaking of you." He jabbed a finger at the vampire. "I hope your day has just been dandy. Say, have you been enjoying feeding off the mundane population?"

The vampire hissed. "Why should you-"

"Because the London Institute does not and will not tolerate such a thing! By the Angel, you lot are idiots; leaving stray parts around and about." Will shoved the vampire and scrambled out from it's grip. Standing up, he went to stand by Jem. "Fight now, questions later?"

"Always eager for a fight, aren't you William." Jem sighed, though he pulled a seraph blade from his weapons belt. "Though I doubt they would be willing to comply." The vampire shifted uneasily, others standing forward beside him. They were quiet, their feet hardly rustling on the cool, marble floor. Jem didn't recognize any of the vampires before them, but they were Downworlders nonetheless, not that he had anything against Downworlders in the first place.

"You have no right to be here!" The lead vampire snarled, flashing his needle-like fangs.

Will grinned maliciously, clearly pleased that he would be able to fight them today. Turning to the lead vampire, he fiddled with a dagger. "By the Accords, vampires must abide by the same mundane laws against murder as any other Downworlders, requiring them to turn away from their natures as hunters and predators, just as humans must choose to turn away from our own abilities to kill and harm." Jem looked at Will quizzically as if to say, _Good God, you memorized all that?_

"But the Accords also say we have the right to trial."

"Ahh, to hell with trial. We already have enough evidence to persecute you." Crossing his arms accusingly, Will just smirked at the vampires angered expression.

"Evidence? A few dead mundanes?"

"They were drained of blood."

"By ignoring the Law, you are very nearly a mundane yourself. Ignoring the Accords and all that which makes you Shadowhunters. You lot don't care about anything but your own race. Forcing all the mundanes who have the Sight to join you as 'equals' when they become your servants."

"Don't act as if they have no choice in this."

"Oh, but they don't. Mundanes, to you, are nothing but low and little."

Will angled back his arm to throw the dagger, his hand clenched around the hilt. Catching Will's arm, Jem tugged him back. "What are you thinking? You're just angering them."

"But they broke the Law!"

"That doesn't give you the right to just go throwing daggers as you please. That puts us all in danger."

Will lowered his arm. "Fine. Fine."

"Good."

"Arrrgh!" Will turned around, yanking his arm from Jem's grasp. Snapping his hand forward, the dagger soared through the air and pieced the chest of one of the vampires. She crumpled to the ground, hitting the floor at an awkward angle. The lead vampire screeched furiously, then flicked his hand forward, sending a surge of vampires in their direction.

**Authors Note: To Emma (guest)- As much as I would love to write the story where everything goes well and Jem finds a cure before Tessa comes into the setting, this is all set before Clockwork Angel, so I'm trying to stay as true to the book as possible. Thanks for the suggestion though. :)**


	51. Chapter 51

The vampire was a blur as it hurdled towards Will, it's bloodied face contorted in rage. Will drew his arm back again, releasing an equally fast blur of daggers into the oncoming wave of vampires. Jem looked in exasperation at Will, raising his seraph blade in front of it. Despite the lack of light in the cathedral corridor, it gleamed like crystalized ice; shards of light dancing on the marble hall. Fighting back to back, Jem and Will fended off incoming vampires as Thomas picked off the outside ones.

"We are outnumbered!" Jem shouted over the cries of rage the vampires screeched. "We have to retreat!"

"Retreat?" Will lunged forward, driving a dagger into the chest of one of the vampires. It went limp, sagging to it's feet with a small thump. "If we retreat, then they'll think they have the right to kill all the mundanes we want."

"If we stay here, we'll...we'll..." Jem trailed off his sentence, turning around to decapitate a vampire that tore at his waistcoat. "We'll end up returning to the Institute as a ragged mess. You know how Charlotte absolutely despises that."

"Oh, for Raziel's sake." Will made an impatient sound in the back of his throat, throwing another razor sharp dagger at the mass of vampires. "Come on Thomas, lets go back to the carriage."

They backed out, still slashing and hacking away at the vampires that followed them. One leapt onto the carriage, crouched down like a cat ready to spring. However, unlike cats, Jem wasn't exactly fond of vampires. With a quick slice of his sword, Jem managed to nick the vampire but missed the heart. Like nails on chalkboard, the vampire raked its claws on the side of the carriage as it struggled to keep it's balance.

Will snapped his head in it's direction, fumbling in his weapons belt for another dagger. It whistled through the air as it headed towards the vampire, piercing it in the chest. Tumbling off the carriage roof, it landed at Jem's feet in a bloody mess.

"Whatever shall we do to draw them off? They'll follow us back if we just ride home." Jem said, looking sullenly at the vampires that surrounded them.

"Thomas. Go back to the Institute! Tell Charlotte we'll be late." Will gestured for Thomas to go to the carriage. He bobbed his head dutifully before climbing onto the carriage to ride the horses home.

"What?" Jem gave Will a look of incredulousness, staring confusedly at his parabatai. "But-"

"We can just walk back. We've done it before. There's no point in keeping Thomas here when Charlotte's probably at the Institute worrying herself silly. At least Thomas can go tell her that we are alright."

"Wait. But Thomas-" Jem looked around, but Thomas had already vanished. He had a slight feeling that Thomas was almost relieved when Will told him to go back. He didn't fight with them often, though he had been trained as Shadowhunters were. "Come on, Will."

Wrapping his fingers around Will's wrist, he pulled Will from the throng of vampires. The ran down the London streets, their footsteps echoing eerily in the foggy twilight. Soon, the sounds of the vampires that followed them retreated into the darkness, no where to be seen. Skidding to a halt, they looked around to ensure that no one was following them.

"Those bloody bastards, driving us into the freezing cold. I could be at the Institute right now, drinking tea and reading a book." Drawing a witchlight from his pocket, Will stared at Saint Paul's Cathedral behind a layer of mist. Jem put his hands on his knee's, panting slightly in the brisk weather.

"By the Angel, it's chilly." Jem shivered, pulling his coat around him and rubbing his hands together.

"I could give you a thermis rune." Will suggested, smirking slightly.

"No! I think we all remember what happened when you last used one. You nearly frightened poor Sophie to death. You and your thermis runes: a more satanic mixture than you and poetry."

Will shrugged placidly, flicking a piece of dirt from his sleeve. "It's what I do best."

"Mixing you and poetry?"

"Frightening young women, and wooing them..though my poetry has to be the second best attribute to my collection of talents." Will slid his seraph blade back into its sheath, pinning it back on his weapons belt. "I would go on and name more of my talents, but I'm afraid the list goes on for too long."

"Mmhmm, sure. Do you know where we are?" Jem looked up at the ever-darkening sky and back at Will who was wearing a sour expression.

"I haven't the slightest idea where we are. I think that is the cathedral in the distance. I guess that if we head towards it...no, wait. That's just the mist. Oh, damn it." Will swore under his breath in Welsh as the mist started to dampen their clothes, making them even colder. "No worries, though. I'm sure I can find a path."

Jem sighed and ran his hand through his wet hair. He knew that by Will saying that he was sure he could find a path, it most likely meant they would be stranded out on the streets for, at minimum, a few hours. He didn't mind the walking but wandering London at night, especially with troublesome Downworlders lurking around, made him uneasy. Stopping to draw a night vision rune on himself and Will, Jem watched as his line of sight brightened before setting off after Will.

**Author's Note: Hi everyone! Sorry I haven't been updating as frequently as I normally have been. :) I've just been utterly slammed with homework. DAMN YOU SCHOOL!...I mean, hi scary history teacher... Anyway, if you have any questions or whatnots, feel free to ask in the comments below or send me a PM. Thanks! O_o**


	52. Chapter 52

Jem glanced sullenly up at the foggy sky, trudging after Will in the muddy weather. The moon filtered hazily through the thicket of clouds, reflecting off the rain glazed buildings. His night vision rune had almost worn off and he didn't want to have to draw another one. Fighting the urge to cough, Jem stuffed his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a witchlight.

"Have you any idea where we are?" Jem asked, holding the glowing stone tightly in his hand. He hurried beside Will, trying to keep his pace.

"Of course I do." Will scoffed, blinking in the bright witchlights glare. "Will you get that blasted thing out of my face?"

"If you know where we are, why aren't we back at the Institute yet. We've been out for hours. Charlotte ought to be worried."

"And she should be. I mean, it's quite dangerous having two deadly Shadowhunters and one, may I add, who has strikingly handsome features that cause the ladies to grovel at his feet and faint from his radiance. Not to mention he also hates ducks."

"Ahh, so you aren't talking about me?" Jem smiled slightly, despite the depressing situation. "Maybe you should use your 'strikingly handsome features', as you call them, to help find a way back to the Institute." As Will went ahead, Jem pressed his sleeve to his mouth. Coughing quietly so Will couldn't hear, he flinched when he saw there was blood smeared across his sleeve.

"James, you doltish bastard. I swear, by the time you get to where I am, all of London's water will be stagnant and I'll be graying." Will called out from behind a building, a mess of black hair veiling his eyes.

"I am not doltish."

"Sometimes you are."

"Am not."

"Are too. I bet you don't even know what doltish means."

"It means stupid."

"It also means idiotic which, coincidentally, also describes you."

"I am not an idiot, nor are you for that matter...even if you act like it sometimes." Brushing dust off his shoulder that had collected from passing through alleys with plaster walls, Jem paused when he heard a small shuffle behind them.

"James!"

"Quiet." Jem hissed, holding Will's sleeve. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I heard something." Letting go of Will's sleeve, Jem frowned. "I'm not entirely sure what it was, though it could have been my imagination."

"It's most likely that. You know how your imagination gets the best of you." Will grinned, his teeth a pale smudge in the gloomy night. "All those daydreams of those times spent at the brothels and the ladies; just spending all night long-"

Jem cleared his throat loudly, interrupting Will's jabbering. "If I remember correctly-" Jem said carefully and slowly. "-Those daydreams were yours. _Not mine! _If anyone's imagination gets the best of them, it would have to be you, William. That last time you blabbered all about your awful dream during supper nearly had Sophie in an angry fit. You know how Sophie just despises you."

"Oh dear." Will said sarcastically, sighing in mock horror. "Getting Sophie angry? Now that would be such an unpleasant surprise. I guess I'm lucky she's a servant though or else she would have had at me with her dagger-like tongue and the dreadful potatoes that Agatha makes."

"What's it with you and potatoes?"

"I had an Irish servant growing up; potatoes for breakfast, lunch, dinner." Will scowled subconsciously in reminiscence of his home. "Potato stew, potato pie, potatoes with potato sauce. Potato water. Potato wine. Potato shoes."

"Potato shoes? You can't be serious."

"You're right. I'm not. But that servant ruined potatoes for me for the rest of my sorry life. If I see another damned potato-" A shape barreled into Will, knocking him to the ground. Hitting the stones painfully, Will's vision was laced with stars as he struggled to comprehend what was happening. Upon closer inspection, Will realized that the very heavy and very bloody creature sitting upon his chest was a vampire.

"Vampires! They've been following us." Whipping out a longsword, Jem fended off another vampire that leapt towards him. Three other vampires surround Jem, their eyes cold and black with cruel mirth.

"We won't let you leave that easily." The vampire on Will's chest snarled, narrowing it's eyes. "We can't just let you report us to the Clave when we are innocent. _Innocent!_ I tell you."

"Yeah right, now go bother someone else." Pushing hard on the vampires chest, Will managed to scrambled to his knees. Despite his strained efforts, the vampire slammed him back into the ground and clasped a hand over his mouth. The force of the impact on Will's head made his vision blur, making him feel light-headed and dizzy. Jem slashed savagely at the vampires that cornered him, but only managed to inflict minor damage.

As the vampire shifted his weight, his fingernails, which were encrusted in dirt, pressed into Will's lip. With one last ditch effort to free himself, Will snapped his head to the side and bit down hard. The vampire screeched, holding his wounded hand to his chest. Staggering to his feet, Will slid a dagger from his weapons belt, a malicious smile spreading across his face.

"Foolish Nephilim. You know what happens when you ingest the blood." Stepping backwards, the vampires pulled back, slipping back off into the shadows. "We did _not _kill those mundanes."

"William!" Jem rushed to Will's side, who was spitting out blood on the sidewalk. "You...doltish idiot."

"Should I be happy that I taught you a new word today? Because if I should be, then I am definitely failing at that. No one simply calls me, William Herondale, a doltish idiot."

"You bit a bloody vampire."

"Wow. I didn't notice that." Will stood up, wiping blood from his mouth.

"Now we really have to hurry on back to the Institute. I also need to... Never mind." Jem trailed off his sentence, looking down at his feet.

"You need to what?"

"Nothing. It's not important." Putting the longsword back into it's sheath and slinging it over his back, Jem tugged at Will's sleeve. "Now, on the other hand, getting you back to the Institute is quite imperative."


	53. Chapter 53

"Finally." Jem breathed as the Institute came in sight. His hand was clasped around Will's, half leading half dragging Will into the Institute. Stumbling precariously on his feet, Will glanced feverishly at Jem and then at the steps leading up to the front door. Despite his attempts to spit up the vampire blood, Will's forehead was slick with sweat and his veins were coursing with fire. Opening the door to the Institute, Jem helped Will inside, slinging his arm over his shoulder.

"Goodness! What happened?" Though it was late, Charlotte insisted on staying up until Will and Jem had arrived back at the Institute. She rushed to Will's side, her brown eyes, which were obscured by a pair of reading glasses, looking worriedly at Will's delirious state.

"He's ingested vampire blood." Jem said between his teeth. "He needs holy water to counteract the effects."

"I'll go get Sophie." Charlotte hurried to a side room, bringing the servant girl into the main room. "Remember where I showed you the holy water was?"

"Yes'm. Shall I fetch some?" Sophie asked, her eyes flitting in Jem's direction.

"That would be quite helpful." Charlotte said, nodding. She steadied Will, who was staggering dazedly on the slippery floor.

"I'm still quite-" Will took a gulp of air, pushing away Charlotte's hands. "I'm still quite capable of walking."

"The blood has been in your system far longer than it should have. At first, you may feel fine...in fact, better than fine, but you are at a state where the blood has started to enter your own blood and mess with your conscious." said Charlotte firmly, though she stepped back from Will.

"C'mon Will. Lets take you to your room upstairs." Jem followed Will as he made his way up the wooden steps. Sophie soon appeared behind them, holding two buckets. Holy water splashed inside one of them, spilling slightly on the floor of Will's bedroom.

"I don't want that damned water."

"You must drink it or else you'll start going all psychotic...well...more than usual."

"Do you need anything else, Jem? I mean, Master Carstairs?" Sophie asked, pushing her hair from her face.

Jem pushed both buckets toward Will then turned to Sophie. "I'm alright. If I need anything else, I'll be sure to ask." With one last glance at Will and then Jem, Sophie left the room, clicking the door shut behind her. Groaning in exasperation, Will lifted the bucket to his lips and sipped at the water. The burn in his fingertips started to subdue when his chest constricted suddenly, causing him to gag.

Holding the empty bucket near his face, he put his face on his hands. Retching up blood in the bucket as the holy water started to set in, his mouth was stained red. A thin line of blood ran from the corner of his mouth to his chin, reminding Jem of the many times he had been the one to cough up blood. Wincing at the thought of such unpleasant and repulsive memories, Jem just put his hand on Will's shoulder.

"Better?"

"No." Will muttered before coughing up another stream of blood.

"It's better if you just get up all the blood than have to deal with the consequences later."

"Easy for you to say. You aren't the one sitting here puking up blood."

Jem raised an eyebrow. "You're talking to the person who knows that feeling better than anyone. This is nothing compared to what I go through." Opening his mouth to say something, Will's body was wracked with another heave, spattering blood on the sides of the bucket.

"Gross." Will looked disgustedly at the blood, wiping his mouth. "This is absolutely treacherous."

"It serves you right. You should know by now that you aren't to bite vampires."

"His hand was right there."

"Oh well. Next time you go off biting vampires, don't expect me to be there to help you get through it."

"Dear me. I'll just have to ask Sophie."

Jem laughed softly, his eyes glimmering with amusement. "Even though she hates you?"

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I'm not sure. I've never had that problem."

"Of course you don't." Will lifted his head, smiling slightly at Jem. "Everyone likes you...Even bloody Jessamine."

"Hah. As if. I'm not sure if she likes anyone."

"Its impossible not to like you."

"You didn't like me at first."

"I was twelve." Will countered, pushing the bucket away from him. "Ugh. I think I have emptied just about every liter of blood in my body in this bucket. If Jessamine ever decides to pursue maidenly arts such as painting, she'll have enough red paint to last her a lifetime."

Jem gagged inwardly at the thought of Jessamine using Will's blood to paint. He shuddered, goosebumps prickling along his arms beneath his jacket. He knew he should leave now and take some of the Yin Fen, but then Will would probably go do something absurdly stupid. _I can wait until Will is feeling alright_. Jem coughed into his sleeve. _Okay, maybe not._

Standing up, Jem nudged Will's back affectionately. "I'm going to be off to bed. Try to resist from blowing up Henry's lab or setting fire to Jessamine's bedroom."

Despite the waves of nausea that rushed over Will, he just grinned. "Damn it. There goes my night."

"Hah hah. Very funny." Jem stood up and opened the door. "Goodnight."

"Night."

When Jem shut the door, a very distraught Charlotte trudged to the drawing room, a letter clamped in her hand. Failing to fight back the curiosity for the letter's contents, Jem followed Charlotte into the office.

**Author's Note: Hi everyone! I have a poll about what my next one-shot could be...If you could go on my profile and answer it, that would be just GREAT! :) Please keep commenting and I'm totally open for questions if you want to PM me them. Thanks! :)**


	54. Chapter 54

When Jem had made it to the drawing room, Charlotte was already at her desk, scribbling something on a piece of parchment. Her reading glasses were perched on her nose, her usually pleasant face squinted in annoyance. The low glimmer of the witchlights glowed somberly in the heavy atmosphere, making Jem feel tight in his chest and quite uncomfortable. Usually that feeling only happened when Will was about to do something stupid, but Jem was almost one hundred percent sure Will was in his room. Putting his hand hesitantly on the door jam, he peered inside.

"Charlotte? Is everything alright?"

She grumbled something under her breath in the most unladylike manner before setting the quill down and turning to Jem. "Has Will finally rid himself of that infernal substance?"

"He has, despite my fears of him not taking the water. Will is upstairs probably reading, no doubtedly doing fine. I noticed you were distraught and I wanted to make sure there wasn't anything bothering you." Jem said, walking slowly into the room towards Charlotte's desk. Picking up the letter from the table, Jem carefully scanned it's contents. "Whatever might this be?"

"Consul Wayland. It's been the third letter he's sent this month." Charlotte set her elbows on the desk and rubbed her temples. "He's been all up in the Institute's business like a cat tracking a mouse. I can't help but think he doesn't trust me or Henry to run this Institute."

"I trust you."

"Sometimes that isn't enough."

"And that is when popular sovereignty comes in handy."

Charlotte sighed, pushing up her reading glasses with the tip of her finger. "I wish, James. But I can't help but think that maybe, I am doing something incorrect. He wants to know everything that happens on this ground and I feel like he is just looking for something wrong."

"But you aren't." It seemed like a completely stupid thing to say, a children's answer at best, but it was what Jem felt. When had Charlotte done anything wrong? It wasn't like she had broken the Law or disrespected the Accords. Well, unless you count Will disrespecting them, but Will was Will and everyone in the Clave knew he couldn't be controlled.

"I'm not sure." Looking uneasily at the parchment before her, Charlotte frowned. "I've always been so sure that I would be the best head of the London Institute that I could be, but with the Consul casting us in his shadow, I'm not quite sure anymore."

"You'll probably discuss it at the next meeting. You will win, you always win." Jem smiled slightly at Charlotte and, despite her petite size and the fact that she was a woman, could think nothing but how Charlotte had fought her way to the top and deserved it. Jem hadn't really thought of it before, but he realized how much it would hurt him and all the others if they were moved out of the London Institute. By now, she was like his older sister and whatever hurt her would hurt him as well.

"That means the world to me but you've always been kind, James. Too kind to say anything bad."

"This has nothing to do with kindness. It just reflects the truth and hope. You must always hope, do you know that Charlotte? Because without it, we might all be dead. Without it, we would have nothing to root for and nothing to lose yet nothing to win."

"And what are we hoping for?"

"Each other." Jem paused, wondering if he had become too philosophical. Will had a way with words that he would never understand, but Jem had always been awkward when it came to such serious conversations. "That's all that matters, isn't it?"

"I guess." Pushing hair from her face, Charlotte took the letter from Jem's hand and set it upon another pile of papers. Grabbing her quill and dipping it in the inkwell on the very edge of her desk, she looked thoughtfully at the letter."I guess I should write back another letter."

"What are you going-" Jem broke off, his eyes wide and his hand pressed to his mouth. A wave of coughs ran through him, his body shaking as he staggered unsteadily on his feet.

"Jem? Are _you_ alright?" Charlotte sprang to her feet, holding her hand out to steady him. Pushing her hand away slowly, Jem stepped backwards. He lowered his head and took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling raggedly. His hair had veiled his face, covering his agonized expression. As he moved his arm up to wipe his mouth, Charlotte could see that the cusp of his sleeve was dark with blood and his hand was speckled with red.

"I'm fine." Jem wheezed though his gasp of pain as he moved belied his words. "I should probably go."

"I'll get Sophie to escort you to your room." Charlotte offered, her eyes flitting to the blood on his sleeve.

"No, I'm fine-"

"I insist."

Sophie, who had apparently overheard Jem's coughing fit and their conversation, hurried into the room. "The lady insists."

"Goodness, Sophie. You've come at the right time. Jem needs to get to his room and take some of his...medicine. See to that, will you?" Charlotte smiled warmly at Sophie; she had become very fond of her in the past year.

"Charlotte-" Jem started to protest when Charlotte gave him a firm, yet motherly, look.

"Master Jem. We must away to your room before that cough of yours starts acting up again." Sophie said, pushing open the drawing room door. She clasped her hands in front of him, looking expectantly at the door and then back to Jem. Feeling Charlotte's stare at the back of his head, Jem felt his face grow hot in embarrassment.

"Oh, alright." Jem said finally, looking utterly defeated, before moving to follow Sophie.


	55. Chapter 55

"I'm not completely incapable of wiping my hand off, Sophie." Jem said, taking the damp linen cloth from Sophie's hand. She sighed briskly before turning to take the box of Yin Fen off his side table. Sitting down on the trunk on the end of his bed, Jem coughed slightly into his sleeve.

"Miss Branwell wants to make sure you rest as much as possible." Sophie said as she poured some of the silvery powder into a cup. "That cough is never going to get better if you don't get any sleep or if you work yourself too hard."

"I'm not going to get better with or without rest though, Sophie."

Sophie paused, the glass of the Yin Fen solution balanced between her fingertips. "Forgive me, Jem, but I was listening to what you and Miss Branwell were conversing about. I think it was very nice, what you said to her, about keeping hope in each other. Though it seems as if you were not only trying to convince her that she should hope, but yourself too. Don't you ever hope to find a cure?"

"A cure?" Jem echoed, staring absentmindedly at the cloth in his hand. It seemed that after everything that had gone on, thinking about finding a cure was impossible and unimportant. But why shouldn't he hope for one? Letting out a sharp breath, he pushed away such thoughts. Instead, he went back to scrubbing his bloodied hand and shook his head. "I couldn't possibly be so selfish to think that Will and the others would dedicate such time helping me find something so useless."

"It's not selfish of you at all. After all, isn't the purpose of living to enrich other's life? You've made a difference in Miss Branwell's life and in Master Herondale's." Though Sophie spoke with mute affection, Jem could hear her voice sharpen at Will's name. She gave the glass to Jem, her brown eyes still looking thoughtfully at Jem.

"I'm just...I don't know..." Jem trailed off his sentence, lifting the glass to his lips. Even though it tasted of burnt caramel and felt as if his mouth had been coated in a layer of ash, he was used to it. Setting the glass aside, he wiped his mouth with the damp linen cloth.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to bring up such a proposition." Sophie said hastily, moving to tuck a strand of hair that had curled unbecomingly out of her bonnet. "I should be off now. Is there anything else you might require?"

"No. Nothing that I might need comes to mind, but if I do think of something, I'll be sure to ask." Watching as Sophie went to leave the room, he set the cloth down on the trunk beside him. "Oh, and Sophie?"

"Yes, Jem? I mean, Master Carstairs?" Sophie asked, pausing at the door.

"I'm not like your past masters. There's no need to be scared that I might get angry. Don't apologize for speaking your mind."

Sophie looked down at her feet, her hand rested on the doorknob. She shifted awkwardly, opening the door. "Alright, I'll try to keep that in mind. It's just that...Oh, goodness. I shouldn't be burdening you with all my silly worries. But, I guess...Thank you."

"Anytime." Jem looked at her in mild amusement at her flustered expression. Then, with a soft click, Sophie left Jem alone in his room.

**~~ooo~~**

Jem took his bow out of the rosin wood case that rested on his mantle. He should have gone to rest an hour ago, but his mind was cluttered with far too many thoughts than he would have preferred. He couldn't get his mind off of the vampires; they were so adamant that they weren't the ones that killed the mundanes. What was even more confusing was that Jem couldn't help but believe them.

If the vampires hadn't killed the mundanes, what had?

Trying to concentrate on his violin to clear his thoughts, Jem put the violin at his throat, rested on the curve just above his collarbone. It was comforting in its familiar pressure and helped him give something tangible to grasp, but not even the sweetest of notes that he managed to wring from his violin could ease his mind. He contemplated checking on Will, but found the creeping lassitude in his body impossible to overcome. He thought about going to the music room where he could play without having to be cautious of how loud he played, but the pain in his fingers would temper that.

Exhausting himself by playing the same ten measure melody over and over again, Jem pushed himself onto his bed, his violin still grasped in his hand. Reminiscing in the past, Jem thought back to when his father had first introduced him to the violin when it was far to heavy for him to hold. Yet, Jem still managed to find a way to rest it on his arm until he was tall enough and strong enough to carry it easily.

There was one time, Jem remembered, he had been playing his violin on the branch of the tree in the Shanghai Institute back lawn. His legs were dangling above the ground, his body balanced precariously next to the branch when an enormous gust of wind knocked Jem off and sent him tumbling to the ground. Though he was covered in scrapes and bruises, all he could think about his violin.

"Is it hurt?" Jem had asked his mother, who answered with an amused, "Not too much." Ever since then, Jem had always treated his violin as if it were something alive and breathing. It was more than just an instrument, it was one of the only possessions he still had from Shanghai. At the thought of this memory, Jem's mouth almost curled up in a smile.

Almost.


	56. Chapter 56

Jem hadn't been feeling well, but when a Shax is roaming about, the Shax just has to be killed.

Slipping on a newly pressed waistcoat and gear jacket, Jem clasped on his weapons belt and slid a dagger into a sheath. He slung a seraph blade over his shoulder and slipped a witchlight into his pocket. Reaching for a cup of water and his silver box, he spooned a small amount of the Yin Fen into the glass. Ignoring the burn as it ran down his throat, he opened his bedroom door and went to meet Will in the main room.

"Will. Are you ready to go?" Jem asked as he entered the room, pushing away silvery strands of hair that fell into his eyes. "Will."

"What?" Looking up, Will raised an eyebrow. "You've got demon pox, haven't you?"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

Will smiled cheerfully, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. "I just feel like talking about demon pox. It's quite a pleasant disease. Remember that one time I was conversing with you about demon pox? Of course, that was when we were just little kids."

Charlotte, who was standing at the doorway to the room, frowned. "Oh, quite your jabbering William. You've got bigger things to worry about than some made up disease. Those Shax have been tracking something strange at the apex of Narrow Street and Limehouse, near the Thames. You two be careful though. I've had a bad feeling that there is something bigger to all this."

"Oh, let them die if they get caught up in bloody Shax." Jessamine called as she passed the room, her head held high and her parasol over her shoulder. This was one of the few times Jessamine was at the Institute for she was normally at the shops in the city, having new dresses being made for her and getting acquaintance with all the townsfolk. By now, she knew everything about everyone: who was getting married, who was having an affair with who, and who was the best hostess for parties. Jem never understood why women had such a knack for striking up small talk, but he was sure he would find it quite boring.

"Goodness. Jessamine has just killed my brain cells. There goes my favorite quote from Oliver Twist." Will complained in mock sadness, putting the back of his hand against his forehead in a dramatic flourish. "Oh goodness, did I just say goodness? Hah, James, remember that other time when I asked you who said goodness and you told me that you did?"

"No. It was not that I said goodness, it was gracious."

"Oh, well. I was drunk."

"Very."

Charlotte looked mildly horrified at Will, her arms crossed in front of her. "Oh, in Raziel's name, you've taken long enough to chat. Thomas is waiting outside with the carriage and I wouldn't like to keep him waiting for too long."

**~~ooo~~**

The carriage jolted to a halt in front of a dark alleyway. Then again, everything at night in London looked like a dark alleyway. Of course Will had his favorites, preferably the ones with the gambling dens and run down brothels. Opening the door to the carriage, Will climbed out, Jem following him close behind.

"Shax. It just had to be Shax." Jem sighed, though he still had a pleasantly neutral look on his face. "I've never cared for Shax."

"You've never cared for Shax, you've never cared for vampires, you've never cared for poetry. What is it going to be next? You've never cared for Agatha's poultry pie?" Will said dryly, taking a dagger from his weapons belt.

"Her poultry pie is not bad," Jem shrugged placidly, "It's just that-"

"You've never cared for it? Thought so."

"You eat anything that is put in front of you. If it weren't all that Shadowhunting and training keeping you in shape, you'd be in Hyde park with the ducks eating you since you'd be too bloody fat to move." Craning his neck to see around Will, Jem pulled out a witchlight. "And your massive head is blocking my view."

"Massive? Did you just call me fat?"

Jem quickened his pace, moving to Will's side, occasionally glancing behind them. "Do you see any Shax?"

"I am not bloody massive? If anything you're the one whose-" Will cut off his sentence, looking at Jem who, in no way possible, could ever be fat. Jem ignored him, wrapping his fingers around Will's wrist and pulling him forward.

"Come one. I thought I saw something over in that corner."

"Very well. You may escort me to the private corner in this cool and quiet night. Just make sure you aren't too loud."

"William! Can you ever be quite for once?" Jem said between his teeth, flashing a look of contempt in Will's direction.

"You have to be the most proper and biggest gentleman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"You are the most horrendously improper person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"And your parabatai with me. So lucky. I wish I was parabatai with me too. The thing is, if I were parabatai with myself, how else could me and I be married?" Will said, making Jem crack a grin. He was thankful that it was dark so Will couldn't see Jem's amused expression. As much as he hated egging Will on, much less finding himself entertained by Will's usually less than appropriate jokes, he couldn't help but enjoy the fun as well.

Something scuttled in the corner of Jem's vision. He snapped his head to the side, trying to see in the pitch black of the night. Holding his witchlight in front of him, he nodded for Will to go forward. "You go ahead. I'll be right behind you."

**Author's Note: Since, as most of you know, this is like a prequel for TID, this is going into the first part of Clockwork Angel where Jem and Will kill the Shax and find Emma Bayliss. I just wanted to make sure everyone knows that the next chapter dialogue is not plagiarized, I'm just trying to make it as true as possible to the book. I'm going to keep the dialogue and actions as close to the book as I can so the dialogue will be copied. Also, I know I already said this, but make sure to answer my poll on my profile page so I have an idea of what my next one shot should be. Thanks everyone! :)**


	57. Chapter 57

"It's over there, by that shop." Will breathed, holding his dagger in front of him. He started forward, not even considering that he should have been quiet so he could sneak up on the Shax demon instead. Jem glanced down a street as he followed Will, pausing to get a better look. There was something that he felt as if was wrong down the intersection of Narrow Street and Limehouse so, without checking up on Will, Jem crept down the street.

Holding his sleeve over the witchlight in his hand, he wrinkled his nose as he stepped in a deep puddle, soaking his shoes. As he neared the intersection, he looked quickly to his side. Down in the middle of an alley, between two warehouses, was a dark shape lying on the ground. It was almost invisible in the night and could only be seen because of a pale glare of moonlight outlining the small shape.

Nearing the figure on the ground, Jem crouched down, holding his witchlight close to the figure. It was a mess of red and black; there was blood puddled and smeared around the shape and the never-ending London rain did little to better the situation. Trying to suppress a wave a nausea, Jem took the figure by the shoulder and rolled it over.

It was a young girl, thirteen or fourteen by the looks of it, with thin, matted braids hanging limply on her shoulders and flesh and fabric torn at her sides. She was obviously a mundane: not pale enough to be a vampire, no warlock mark in sight, didn't look like a werewolf, and not pretty enough to be faerie.

When he looked closely at the girl, he saw a flash of metal gleaming beneath the shreds of her dress. It was a small dagger, coated from hilt to blade in blood. However, what confused Jem was that the girl looked as if she had died fairly recently, but the blood on the dagger was dried. Swiping a small handkerchief from inside his coat, he carefully placed the dagger inside for safekeeping.

Somewhere in the distance, Will called out to Jem, obviously unknown to the fact that Jem had left him. "Jem! Where are you? Did you see that? Killed it with one blow! Not bad, eh?" There was a loud huff of annoyance after Will realized Jem hadn't seen him kill the Shax demon. Jem rolled his eyes, still peering down at the girl. This time, the voice was louder and filled with exasperation. "James Carstairs! Jem! Where are you, you disloyal bastard?"

Standing up and raising his witchlight so it wasn't dimmed by his sleeve, he narrowed his eyes when he saw that his hands were smeared with blood. "Over here. Follow the witchlight."

Out of the shadows, Will's figure was visible, heading towards Jem. In the bright light of the witchlight, his features were lit, his mouth curled in an arrogant grin. :Did you hear me before? That Shax demon thought it could get me with its bloody great pincers, but I cornered it in an alley—"

"Yes. I heard you." Jem interrupted before Will could tell his entire tale, which was all probably filled with heroic nonsense. Looking up at Will, he saw his parabatai frown.

"You're bleeding." Will's eyes were dark and filled with worry, his voice lowering to a whisper. "What happened?"

"It's not my blood. It's hers." Jem gestured on the ground at the dark shape.

"A dead woman?" Will inquired squinting as he tried to see through the heavy fog. "A mundane?"

"A girl, really. Not more than fourteen." Jem said, earning a disgruntled array of curses from Will.

"If we'd only happened along a little earlier,' Will said angrily, crossing his arms. "That bloody demon —"

That's the peculiar thing. I don't think this is the demon's work." Jem interrupted once again, tilting his head to the side. "Shax demons are parasites, brood parasites. It would have wanted to drag its victim back to its lair to lay eggs in her skin while she was still alive. But this girl," he glanced at the mundane, "she was stabbed, repeatedly. And I don't think it was here, either. There simply isn't enough blood in the alley. I think she was attacked elsewhere, and she dragged herself here to die of her injuries."

Will looked unconvinced. "But the Shax demon-"

"I'm telling you," Jem said insistently, letting out a small impatient sigh. "I don't think it was the Shax. I think the Shax was pursuing her—hunting her down for something, or someone, else."

"Shaxes have a keen sense of scent," Will said finally, defeated. "I've heard of warlocks using them to follow the tracks of the missing. And it did seem to be moving with an odd sort of purpose." He paused, stopping to stare at the crumpled shape on the ground. "You didn't find the weapon, did you?"

Reaching his hand into his coat, he pulled out the dagger, handing it to Will. "Here. It's a sort of misericord, or hunting dagger. Look how thin the blade is."

Will turned the dagger over, his fingers running over the bone handle as if he were a blind reading brail. Scrubbing the dried blood off the hilt and blade with his sleeve, he brought the dagger close to his face to study the strange encryption on the hilt. Jem leaned in closer, noticing the symbol for the first time.

"An Ouroboros?" Jem inquired, his mouth curved down in a lilt of confusion.

Will looked at the dagger's symbol, clearly amused, which made Jem even more confused. "The end of the world, and the beginning."

"I understand the symbology, William." Jem said slowly, enunciating to emphasize his point. He tapped the Ouroboros with his fingertip, looking up at Will with patience. "I meant, what do you think its presence on the dagger signifies?"

"It's an alchemical symbol, not a warlock or Downworlder one. That usually means humans—the foolish mundane sort who think trafficking in magic is the ticket for gaining wealth and fame."

"The sort who usually end up a pile of bloody rags inside some pentagram." Jem murmured forlornly, his eyes darkening to a stormy gray. "The sort who like to lurk about the Downworld parts of our fair city."

Will looked completely unfazed by Jem's response, proceeding to wrap the dagger back up and put it carefully into his pocket. "D'you think Charlotte will let me handle the investigation?"

Despite the somber atmosphere of the situation, Jem let out a snort of laughter. "Pfft. Do you think you can be trusted in Downworld? The gambling hells, the dens of magical vice, the women of loose morals..." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Will, slipping the witchlight into his pocket. By this, Will seemed absolutely delighted and more motivated than ever to start this case.

"Would tomorrow be too early to start looking, do you think?"

Jem threw his hands up in resignation. "Do what you like, William. You always do."


	58. Chapter 58

Will whistled as he strode down the street, Jem hot on his trail. They passed a market, which was fittingly named The Downworlder's Market. _How creative_, Jem thought silently, smiling inwardly. Almost tripping over a very distraught faerie, he apologized profusely as he walked away. Glancing back, Will let out a short breath of laughter at his embarrassed parabatai.

"You need an equilibrium rune there, James?"

Narrowing his eyes, Jem hurried to Will's side. "How come you know your way around here so well? It seems as if everywhere I turn, there is a cart or Downworlder that is right in front of me."

"Perhaps you need a reading glasses rune."

"Ah, but alas, there is no such thing. Perhaps what you need is an agony rune. Then you'll at least understand a portion of what I suffer every single day of being your parabatai."

"Was that a threat?" Will peered at Jem, one eyebrow raised in amusement. Occasionally looking behind them as they travelled deeper into the Downworld town, the different array of creatures started to come more frequently. Most of them ignored Will and Jem, despite the fact that their runes and seraph blades were completely visible, but some glared silently at them with suspicion.

A large band of werewolves stumbled out of a pub, their laughs sounding like barks and growls of wild dogs. A group of nymphs and pixies were on a stage, their music sounding like high pitched melancholy ringing, which Will then explained was their evening special. The brothels were the worst; crowds of drunken Downworlders with a spare few mundanes hooting and whistling at the array of prostitutes. Of course Jem was quite horrified, looking down at his feet as he trudged along.

Will, on the other hand, seemed merrily at home, winking and flashing a grin into some of the Downworlder's paths. He straightened his waistcoat and tie as one of the customers at pub waved her jeweled hand and blew a kiss.

"I told you the nymphs do the trick." Someone said as they walked past. They were walking with another figure, both of their top hats tipped forward so their faces were covered in shadows. However, despite the lack of moonlight, the street lamps did more than enough to illuminate the alleyways. In each of their hands was a briefcase-like bag, clasped closed and held firmly in their hands.

"They're all fools. All of them. He'll be happy." The other figure chuckled, surveying the streets. From the looks of them, though, they were completely mundane.

"How do they know about the Downworlders?" Jem asked Will, nudging him slightly. "They don't look like one."

"Who knows. Maybe they're warlocks." Will shrugged, though he paused to stare at the strangers. He tilted his head to the side, the way he always did when he was trying to concentrate.

"I don't see a warlock mark."

"Who knows. Perhaps if you look low enough, they'll have blue-"

Jem elbowed Will in the ribs, frowning in annoyance. "Shut up and listen to them. They don't sound like a Downworlder either. They talk about them as if they aren't one."

"So? There are mundanes here."

"But none who know that the 'people' here are not from their world."

"Ah, true. Mendelin rune then?" Will inquired, taking a stele from his belt. Jem nodded, holding his arm out for Will to mark. Will's hands were awfully hot as he steadied Jem's hand, feeling like burning embers pressed into his skin. He hadn't realized how cold it was until now, or how late. Once they were both glamoured, they set off in pursuit of the two men.

"Whatever is he going to do once he has them?" The man said, pulling out a silver pocket watch from his pocket. "Oh, bloody hell. It's curfew time. We have to get back."

His partner, who was rummaging through his bag, snapped his head up in surprise. "The meeting. Oh hell, he's going to be all bent when it comes to giving his lectures." As the two men started to make their way quickly down the bustling street, a small, white letter fluttered from the man's open case. Jem stooped, picking it up, careful not to wrinkle it in any way.

On the front, in a wax seal, was the perfect imprint of a double Ouroboros.

"I knew it." Jem whispered excitedly. "I knew they seemed suspicious."

"And now your going to tell me I told you so, aren't you; give me that whole speech about how I should listen to you since you're the eldest?" Will crossed his arms, his eyes fixated on the seal. Jem's fingers paused at the seal, unsure whether to open or not, but quickly darted to the bottom of the letter, holding it by the corner.

"What? No. I wasn't even thinking about that." Slipping the letter into his pocket, Jem pulled Will down the street. "We should get this back to Charlotte and tell her about the investigation. We also need to explain to her about the girl and the dagger and...oh, damn it."

"What?" Will said, mildly surprised that Jem had said damn, which, in Jem's world, was a curse word.

"We forgot about Thomas. He's been waiting the entire time. We mustn't make him wait any longer. Come on."

"In other words, you just want to get out of this place, don't you."

Stopping to stare into the distance, Jem could make out the little outlines of ships and buildings in the distance, blurred by the thick fog. Turning to Will, Jem shrugged, his silver hair mused by a passing gust of wind."I don't like this place. Plus, we have enough evidence of something bigger at work and it's late. I'm sure Thomas would be grateful to leave now."

"Whatever you say, James. Whatever you say."


	59. Chapter 59

"You said we would investigate tomorrow, Will. And this is what I get. An all-nighter spent trudging through a Downworld town with blood smeared on my clothes and hands when I could be at the Institute in my room." Jem sighed as they hopped out of the carriage.

"You've never complained about staying out late." Will said thoughtfully, making his way up to the Institute. "Why should you now?"

Jem bit his lip, turning away from Will. "I've had an awfully bad feeling that whatever is coming is bigger and worse than what we've ever faced before. Strange things have been happening, Will; the vampires, the bodies, even the mundanes..."

"So, what your saying is that you don't think my skills are powerful enough to overcome such a monstrosity." Opening the door, Will tossed his hat inside, his mouth curled up in a smirk. "I swear, James, if any demon tries to come any less than five thousand meters away from me, I will use my extraordinary eyes power and charm him till he is unable to do anything but worship at my feet and chortle Tennyson and sound like the stupid singing language in Whales. Will that make you happy?"

"Where in Raziel's name have you been?" Charlotte said, walking briskly into the main room.

"Good God, woman. Do you ever sleep?" Will inquired, slipping his hand into his coat pocket.

"We ran into some...strange things. Here." Jem gave Charlotte the letter, brushing his thumb across the wax seal. "See that? Its an-"

"Ouroboros, but a double one." Charlotte gasped, her eyes widening. "I remember seeing something like this in the archives. The question is, what would it be doing in the Downworld community."

Jem clicked his tongue. "Exactly. Will show her the dagger."

With slight reluctance, Will drew the dagger from his pocket, letting the white handkerchief flutter to the ground. Charlotte quickly snatched it from his hand, staring at the double Ouroboros that was burned into the hilt. "Interesting."

"Pfft. Interesting? More like demonic. James found it stabbed into a girl's side, and she was a mundane to boot." Will scoffed, ignoring Charlottes horrified expression. "Then we-"

"I." Jem corrected.

Will gave Jem a scathing look. "Then _Jem_ saw two mundanes at The Downworlder's Market. We tracked them for a ways when finally, they dropped that letter. To our surprise, it had the same symbol."

"What I believe is that it is the symbol or crest for a group or cause. The Shax demon's weren't just there to nest, they were tracking something and I think this was it. That girl had to have had some connection to the Shax demons."

Charlotte nodded slightly, her mousy brown hair stuck firmly on her head with a bun. She still had her reading glasses on and her too big dress looked frumpy and wrinkled. Despite that, she held her head high in determination. "I think I know where to look. Follow me." She spun on her heels, marching towards the library. Jem rubbed his eyes sleepily, but moved to follow Charlotte. Will looked equally worn out in the dim light, his hair an absolute mess and shadows beneath his eyes.

Pulling out a mass of files and scribbled on parchment, Charlotte heaved them onto the long table in the room, rummaging through them. "Ah, here."

"Must we look through such boring papers now? I've exhausted my patience-"

Jem let out a short laugh. "When have you ever had any in the first place?"

"I've exhausted my patience and couldn't possibly be able to concentrate on anything but the bit of dirt you have on your face." Will said, tapping the bridge of his nose. Clearly flustered, Charlotte raised her hand to her face, using her sleeve to scrub the dirt from her nose. Looking obviously pleased at the embarrassed and disheveled mess that Charlotte had made of herself, he leaned on the table and tapped his fingers on the dark wood.

"I'll need to ask permission to pursue this at the next meeting." Charlotte said finally.

"Oh, boring and dreadful things those meetings are. I've never liked them, especially when that stupid, ugly git is there to ruin all the fun."

"Who?" Jem asked, looking at Will innocently before realizing what Will was talking about. "Oh, Gabriel. He's not all too bad."

"Go marry him then."

"What?"

"Never mind." Will said hastily before turning back to Charlotte. His eyes glittered in the light of the candles like pale chips of lapis. "Charlotte. I want to do this investigation. Let me handle this one."

Charlotte shook her head. "William. You're hardly seventeen and you've never been all too reliable."

Shrugging slightly, Jem couldn't help but support his parabatai. "He's got to have a chance. How else is he supposed to prove himself?"

"James. He can't, as you call it, prove himself without a chance, but-"

"Then it's decided." Will exclaimed happily. "I'll take hold of this case. Now all you have to do is go convince your little Clave friends that this is a case worth investigating. After all, what's not to be interested in? Dead mundanes, alchemical symbols, brothels, maybe even some demon pox."

"He's right." said Jem, exchanging silent expressions with Charlotte. "And I'll help him and," he said slowly, staring at Charlotte, "I'll make sure he doesn't get into any more trouble."

Charlotte held Jem's look of intent before breaking it to look at Will. "Very well, but you must be careful. There are things out there that even we don't understand. I would hate for one of you to make the wrong decision, especially," she noted, "when it's your first lead expedition. Now get some rest. I'd like to research this more tomorrow."

"Oh, in Raziel's name, come on James. You heard the woman. I'll be out and about while you can look through all the files."

Jem made an impatient groan in the back of his throat, walking slowly out after Will. "Don't make me regret supporting you, Will." He murmured quietly, his eyes downcast. "Not how you disappoint everyone else."


	60. Chapter 60

"Does anyone in the Clave disagree with this expedition?"

The Consul was met with silence, just the stony glare of Benedict Lightwood at Charlotte and Henry. Henry shifted awkwardly in his seat, but Charlotte held her head high, holding her breath in anticipation. Yawning in boredom, Jessamine put her head in her hands, which were gloved in immaculately pressed pink satin slips. For once, Will was silent, his eyes glittering as the Consul stood from his seat.

"Then I hereby grant Charlotte and Henry Branwell of the London Institute permission to pursue the disappearance and murders of the mundanes. No help will come from the other Institutes as I, and the others, trust you to do your job under the Law and by the Accords for it is our mandate to protect all who seek aid." Consul Wayland seated himself again, his long robes brushing the marble floor. "I now dismiss our meeting and, if anything should come up, I want to be sure that you," he stared at Charlotte, "will let me know immediately. We cannot afford any losses."

"Agreed, consul." Charlotte said briskly, gesturing for everyone from the London Institute to leave. Will hurried up beside Jem, curling his lip in a smug smile.

"Did you see Gabriel's face?" Will sneered. "He was absolutely outraged."

"Don't let it get to you, Will." Jem sighed, stepping into the carriage. It was a bigger carriage than usual, of course they were traveling with Henry, Charlotte, Jem, Jessamine and her absurd dress, so it suit the occasion well. "I'll go through the archives, though it's quite dull. You should help at least a small while."

"Oh, I'll be sure to rest while all you servants do the work. I'm sure Jessamine-" Tripping over a large crack in the pavement as he went to go into the carriage, Will cut off his sentence. He let out a string of curses, which greatly horrified both Jessamine and Charlotte, before grabbing his foot and hopping absurdly around on it. _He didn't trip that badly_, Jem speculated, glancing from the crack to Will's hobbling. _Though Will is quite the attention seeker. _Realizing that no one around him was paying attention, Will let out a very loud, and a very shameless, "Damn it!"

In return, Jessamine, who was behind him, smacked Will on his back with her closed parasol, earning quite another loud curse from Will. "Manners, Mr. Herondale." Jessamine said prissily, prodding Will with the tip of her parasol. "Cursing is quite ungentlemanly of you."

"Oh, and I suppose hitting people with your overly sized umbrella is quite a ladylike way to address the situation." Will scoffed, crossing his arms as he slipped into the carriage. he leaned in towards Jem, whispering something in his ear. "You know, James, someone, someday, needs to smack that idiot of a girl upside the head. Someone even more rebellious than I."

"So, what you mean to tell me, is that there are others like you out there?" Jem said, a smile playing on his mouth.

"Well, there are a few others, minus the charms and good looks...But then you just have the Lightwood brothers, who are as ugly as Satan himself. Oh, dear me. Do all ugly people have bad senses of humor, because if so, I'm quite elated I'm not one of them."

"Where does that put me?"

"Oh, by the Angel, at least above Gabriel."

"Because I have charms?"

"No, because you're parabatai with me." Will gave himself a self satisfied smile before leaning his head against the carriage window. Charlotte and Henry, thankfully, had gotten in, allowing Thomas to start the carriage.

**~~ooo~~**

"Charlotte." Will complained, tossing a paper onto the table. "I'm going to need one of your iratzes soon. My lovely hands have been ruined by the ceaseless amounts of paper cuts that threaten my very perfection."

"If you're so perfect," Jessamine said breezily, looking at Will above a sheet of paper, "then I must be immaculate. Hmm. Pity there are no other pretty girls for me to show off to."

"There's Sophie." Jem said, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Don't tell me you have a thing for servants, now." Will groaned into his hands, wrinkling the papers.

"She's a girl. Haven't you noticed, Will? Charlotte's also a girl."

"Huh. Sophie. Her scar makes her absolutely horrendous to look at. That's what makes her so bitter. And Charlotte, she's not all to bad, but she's all caught up in the Institute business and her silly husband. They are all Shadowhunters." Jessamine spat out the last word, her eyes narrowing on her paper.

"I found something!" Charlotte cried from the other room, holding the paper in the air. She held her dress up from the floor so she didn't trip, her hair falling from it's plaits. Setting the paper on the table, she beckoned for everyone to gather around and look at the article. Both Jem and Will pushed up from their seats, neither of them surprised that Jessamine refused to do both. "Look. The double Ouroboros was documented in 1868 as the symbol for the Pandemonium Club; a group of mundanes who were interested in dark magic."

"However," Jem said thoughtfully, tapping the eraser of his thin, graphite pencil against his lip, "it seems as if Downworlders have taken part to such activity. Demons, no doubt, could also be involved."

"Ah, yes. That must explain the activity at the brothel's. No wonder the line when I went there was so long." Will said incredulously, glancing at Jem to see his reaction. "Perhaps you could come with me, sometime, James."

"I'm charmed, Will. Now, about that club..." Jem narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Now, all we need to do is find out the whereabouts or origins of this 'Pandemonium Club'. Do you think you have a clue who might be affiliated with such a thing?"

"I think," Jessamine spoke softly, obviously displeasured about having to take part in their conversation, "That I do."


	61. Chapter 61

Jessamine pushed a paper onto the desk, looking utterly horrified that she had to partake in any discussion that involved Shadowhunters. Swiping it from the table, Will picked it up and raised an eyebrow. "Ahh. Jessamine. for once, I thought that you perhaps had something decent to present. Who names their house The Dark House? Pfft. I think you've been utterly confused."

"Well, I do remember you said you wanted to name yourself Sir Teacups. I don't know who would want an unfortunate name like that. Though, I do recall that you were only thirteen." said Jem, looking at Will above the papers in his hands.

Yawning, Jessamine put her hands behind her head. "Though I do doubt will has changed even the slightest since he was thirteen."

"Oh, my dear Jessie." Will said sarcastically, swooping in close next to her. "I didn't get this handsome face and my charms by sitting around trying on my dresses and dreaming of what fantasies I might have later in my life, though I do dream of those in my spare time. Unlike you, who does nothing but acts like an idiot the entire day."

"How dare you-"

"Of course, I could be mistaken. Underneath all this stupidity and white cake powder that you put on your face, you could be intelligent. However, the side I know you as is quite unfortunate. Marie Antoinette is uglier than you and she still has more manners, and wits, by the looks of you." Will remarked placidly, an amused look flashing over his eyes though he didn't change his disapproving expression.

"William!" Charlotte barked, grabbing the paper from his hands. "Did you even perhaps think that these papers might contain crucial information to our expedition."

"Actually, yes. I thought about how this 'Dark House' might actually be a brothel, and I was looking for times that it might be open. Now that is crucial information."

Sighing, Jem pushed a hand through his hair. "I'm sure we all needed to know that."

"Quite."

"Hush up, all of you." Charlotte ordered, setting the piece of parchment onto the table. "Look, it mentions the Ouroboros. Though I have no clue why such a document is in our files, this could serve us as a bit of information when it comes to finding the mundanes."

"If the symbol to the Pandemonium Club is mentioned in the Dark House records, then couldn't it be the...lets say, center of the trouble that has been upsetting the locals?" Will asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Quite so. By the Angel, if it mentions the Ouroboros and it truly does lead us to the Dark House, whatever shall we do when we get there?" Pushing her reading glasses up her nose, Charlotte stared stonily down at the papers. "Mundanes trafficking in magic is quite dangerous, especially when they go snooping around in places that are strictly for Downworlders or are known for demons."

"Magic, those silly mundanes. Though Michael Ende is an esteemed author of The Never-Ending Story, his take on magic is entirely warped. In fact, he uses the double Ouroboros to help this young warrior find a crystal when Ende doesn't have the slightest idea what the double serpent symbolizes. I was simply outraged when I read this book that I went down to the training room and proceeded to hack-"

"Will." Jem elbowed Will in the ribs, tugging at his shirtsleeve. "We don't need an entire lesson on that sort of book. What we ought to worry about now is how we are going to get there. I certainly have no clue where the whereabouts of this 'Dark House' is and Thomas surely doesn't know."

"Well," Will said, shrugging, "Enfin je me rappelai le pis-aller d'une grande princesse à qui l'on disait que les paysans n'avaient pas de pain, et qui répondit : Qu'ils mangent de la brioche." _Finally I recalled the stopgap solution of a great princess who was told that the peasants had no bread, and who responded: Let them eat brioche._

"That was Marie Antoinette. Wasn't it? Which side of that equation am I on?" Jem inquired, his mouth curling up into a small smile.

"Oh, James. I am most certainly the great princess and you are the peasants. We must make brioche if we do not have bread."

"That does not make the slightest sense. It is irony. We cannot find The Dark House without it's location. How do you expect to accomplish such a thing?"

"You see, James." Will tapped the side of his head, a small grin playing on his lips. "We have the location of all the houses in London. You eliminate the absolute impossible houses and you keep watch on the ones that seem the most...suspicious. I've heard Henry can make blueprints. That will possibly be the most useful thing Henry will ever do in his entire lonesome life."

"What do you plan to do when we find it?"

"Rescue some young woman from their dreadful fates...Possibly, if there are any. I'll march in like Sir Galahad!" Will winked, clicking his tongue. "Don't worry, Charlotte. You leave this tracking to me."

Jem let out another sigh, nudging Will in the shoulder. "I hope you go do that, Will. As for me, I'm going to retire to my room."

"Leaving me to do all the work, James?"

"You did want to take hold of this expedition." Jem said tiredly. "I've been helping you out and about. We've hardly had any time for rest. You should get some sleep soon."

"Possibly tomorrow, after I eat dinner."

Jem shook his head and rolled his eyes as he walked out of the room, feeling the burn of Will's stare behind him. Walking down the hall, his hand paused at the doorknob to his room. Glancing back at the room he had come from, and then back to his room, he skidded further down the hallway, turned into quite another hallway and found himself headed for a room that was not his own.


	62. Chapter 62

Jem simply hated sneaking around, but the arousal of curiosity that constantly swam through his mind had to be eased. Reaching Will's door, he took a deep breath of anticipation before opening it. Wincing when it emitted a loud creak, Jem hurried on inside and clicked the door closed behind him. He was utterly dismayed by the sight of the room, not that he had expected any better. Though he always knew Will was not the cleanest of people, he had expected Will had obtained the slightest urge to pick up his items.

Lighting a candle in the room, Jem blew out the match and set it in an empty plate. Stepping over an array of books and broken teacups, Jem slid into a chair at his desk. Papers and crumpled up pieces of parchment were scattered everywhere, scribbled handwriting of meaningless notes that were scrawled over the desk. Ink blots spotted the papers, blurring some of the near illegible papers. However, in the very corner of the desk, there was a neat package of letters.

Quick to untie the strings that clasped them closed, Jem shuffled through the letters. What he found most peculiar is that they were all from Will, addressed to his family, though he had sent none of them. Another confusing detail was that most of them were written on similar dates: November 10th 1873, November 10th 1874, November 10th 1875, November 10th 1876, November 10th 1877. There were also letters that he had written on his birthday, filled with recaps of the year, good wishes to his family, and apologies but no explanations.

The edges of the letters were burned, as if he had thrown them into the fire but then made a split second change of mind and grabbed them out. There was also a photograph tucked in the mix of crackled parchment. Pulling it out, Jem studied the blurred picture.

It was Will with two other girls that Jem guessed were his sisters. Will looked just as he had when Jem first met him as he did in the photograph. He was tall, skinny, and very pale, with a small scowl on his face that used to be permanently etched into his expression. There was clarity about Will in this picture that made Jem feel like he was looking at London without fog. Without the guarded look in his eyes, Will looked vulnerable and truly childlike, unlike when he and Jem had first been acquainted.

_What had changed in Will between this photograph and when I met him? _Jem wondered, sparking a new flame of curiosity. _By the Angel, curiosity is my besetting sin._ Usually Jem could read Will as if he were reading music, but now, it was different. Before, he needn't ask to know what was wrong and he could tell by the subtle frown on Will's face what was bothering him.

But Will hardly showed any bit of humanity that he might have around anyone beside Jem, holding his emotions back like a dam holding water. Though Will had the same glint in his eyes as before, these memories of the past were killing him.

Taking another letter from the pile, he held it close to the lit candle, trying to make out the awful handwriting. To his surprise, it was addressed to him. It was an explanation and an apology, though Jem could hardly read past the first sentence it in the dim light.

"Out of all people, James. You? Snooping around my room?" A voice said behind him.

Jem turned around, startled, holding the letters in his hand. "William!"

"What are you doing?" Will asked, narrowing his eyes. A look of fear passed through his vision as he saw what Jem was holding. Storming over to him, he snatched the letters from the desk and out of his hand. "What were you possibly doing with these?"

"Nothing. I just was moving them." Jem lied, standing up.

Will looked unconvinced as he held the letters to the lit candle, watching as the already burned edges caught fire. He studied it for a moment, watching as the flames ate away at the crumpled parchment. Setting it on top of the plate that Jem had set the used match on, he crossed his arms. "I should hope you were doing nothing."

"Will, are you trying to set the place on fire? With all the books and flammable things in your room, I would be especially careful."

Ignoring Jem, Will narrowed his eyes. "Jem. What were you really doing in here?"

"I told you-"

"No. You're lying. I can tell."

"Like you don't do it all the time." Jem said, setting his hand on his desk as the world started to blur around him. He let out a sigh, trying to make eye contact with Will without feeling dizzy. "I deserve an explanation, William."

"Why? Why should I tell you anything?"

"I've been there for you every moment of your time here. When you got in trouble, I was there for you. When you got your sorry drunk self into that tavern, I was the one who retrieved you! I've risked my life for you and I know you've done the same, but isn't it time that I get an answer." Jem said breathily, his teeth chattering with pent up anger. Will looked surprised at Jem's comeback, raising an eyebrow. "I've always given you credit, Will. More than you've ever deserved. Everyday I tell myself that you're better than you show, but deep down, I'm not so sure. I'm your parabatai. _Your parabatai._ I'm the one who should know you better than anyone, and you still hold me at a distance. I'm confused, I'm worried and I am scared for your well being, Will."

"James. I admit. I've told you much, but I haven't told you everything and I'd like to keep it that way. God, you've always been the good one but how can anyone raised like a saint, be anything but a saint?" Will let out a pained laugh, a veil of black hair covering his eyes, Pushing it back instinctively, he shook his head. "You do know me more than anyone, so you should know that I'm not like you. I'm not honest and good."

"But you could be."

"No. Please, Jem. Just don't."

"Will, I've almost never question your motives for anything, no matter how idiotic you act. You've always been devilishly far away with your little tricks and banters. I've only learned things about you by the way you accidentally let your history slip out, or by the way you react to small and simple things that pop up in conversations. I know that you wouldn't tell me something like this unless I looked for it, but please, for my sake and yours, just tell me that you're going to be alright."

"Jem-"

"I've lost my mother, my father, and everyone I knew back in Shanghai. It would hurt too much to lose you as well."

Will looked up. "You are my parabatai, and I would do anything for you if you absolutely depended on it, but this secret is mine to keep and mine only. But for now, it's going to be alright."

"You're sure?"

"Of course unless Henry tries to make more of his inventions that blow up...but then I'd just have to kill him myself."

"I don't think Charlotte would like that very much, or Henry for that matter."

"Oh, to hell with that." Will scoffed, a small grin creeping onto his mouth. "But for now, we have a Dark House to find."


	63. Chapter 63

"I never said we were going to be out the entire day, James. I just wanted to have a walk around. You know we can't get anywhere if we don't look for information. We did manage to find a few details, but it wasn't my fault that the werewolves didn't want me to search the pub."

"Oh, and I suppose it wasn't your fault that you threw the first punch."

"I see how this is." Will said accusingly, pointing his finger at Jem. "You're going to team up on me with Charlotte and I'll have to go fend for myself. It seems as if everyone has formed a conspiracy group against me. Soon, they'll be having secret meetings in the kitchen drawers talking about how they are ever going to rid the Institute of me. Whatever shall I do, James?"

"Join them."

"You are one of this confederacy, aren't you. I'm sure the werewolves are thinking of a thousand different ways to tortue me and rip me to shreds."

"How did you manage to anger them so much anyway?"

"I said braf eich cyfarfod chi."

"And that means..?"

"Pleased to meet you. You did ask me to be on my best behavior."

Jem sighed, cradling his wrist as they hurried down the street. "And, by the looks of them, they seemed absolutely charmed. Not everyone can speak Welsh, Will. You've made an utter mess of yourself. Look, you have dirt in your hair, blood on your waistcoat, and an entire weeks worth of runes on your arm just to heal that nasty scratch. Sophie is going to have a fit."

Running a hand through his hair to tuck it behind his ears, Will shrugged. "At least I took precaution to put an iratze on now. You didn't let me do anything about your wrist. How did it break anyway? One of the werewolves?"

"Shǎzi." Jem said placidly, still holding his wrist to his chest.

"Did you just call me an idiot?"

"Yes, and you deserved it." Jem glanced over at Will, an exasperated expression ghosting across his face. "When that one werewolf pushed you back, you practically landed on my wrist. It was a loud crack, I have no clue how you didn't hear it. Then, the other werewolf snapped his jaws around it, leaving a tooth inside my wrist."

"So that's why you were using your left hand for fighting. Oh, mae'n ddrwg gennym."

Jem smiled slightly, shaking his head. "You're sorry? That's a first." He stumbled as he suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. Grabbing Will's shoulder with his good hand to steady himself, he blinked away the blurs in his vision

"Are you alright?"

Jem gave him a small nod. "I'm...I'm alright."

They turned he corner, their heavy boots splashing through the newly formed puddles. It was dismal and misty outside, but nothing compared to what London could be at it's worst. Wincing as his a shot of pain went up his wrist, Jem let out a sharp breath in between gritted teeth. He would have had Will draw an iratze or simply done it himself, but the werewolf tooth was far too deep to pull it out and would heal under the skin if he used a rune.

Finally going up the Institute steps, Will swung the door open, going into the living room. "Come on, Jem. You've got a tooth to get rid of." Pulling on Jem's shoulder, Will marched him into the infirmary.

"Ouch. Will, that doesn't feel good at all. You're...ow."

"Whatever happened Jem?" Charlotte asked, hurrying by his side. "Goodness, did you get into a fight?"

"And a glorious one too, with me upon a white steer charging into battle." Will grinned, picking up a pair of silver tweezers that looked the same shade as Jem's hair and eyes.

"You were riding upon a cow?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow, her glasses slipping down to the tip of her nose.

"He's in an odd mood." Jem explained, sitting down on one of the beds. "We've got to look in the documents after, though."

"But Jem, you are a cripple with that wrist of yours." Will said, taking his wrist gently into his hand.

"You're right, Will. And you're annoying. But tomorrow morning, I'll be all healed but you'll still be annoying."

"I might be annoying but I still have all the right answers to everything. Not to mention my endless amounts of wit." said Will, staring down at Jem's bloodied wrist. "I would rather be witty than right, though."

"Well." Jem observed, shrugging his shoulders as Will positioned the tweezers in his hand. "You needn't trouble yourself. You'll never be either of those things. In fact..." Jem trailed off his sentence as Will desperately tried to get a grip on the tooth which was imbedded in the mists of torn tissue and dried blood.

"Hold still." Will muttered as he narrowed his eyes.

"I'm trying, but I don't know if you've considered that this might be a trifle bit agonizing to have my parabatai using sharp tweezers to dig an extremely large tooth out of my wrist."

With a small cry of pain from Jem and a jerk of Will's wrist, he yanked the tooth out, a steady stream of blood running down his hand. Slipping a stele from her gear pocket, Charlotte, who was especially adept at drawing iratzes, burned a healing rune into Jem's arm. Will glared at Charlotte subconsciously, but moved to set the bloody tooth and tweezers in a tray.

"Thanks Charlotte." Jem said, watching as his wrist slowly began to stop bleeding and heal.

For a moment, Charlotte's face was grim as she leaned near Jem. Whispering something in his ear, Jem frowned but nodded. Pulling back, Charlotte gave them both a forced smile. "You two hurry up. I have a few legal things to discuss with Henry. Don't cause any trouble though, boys." Spinning on her heel, Charlotte hurried from the room, her fair, brown plaits bouncing behind her. Will slid onto the infirmary bed beside Jem, crossing his legs and ignoring the fact that he was getting all sorts of grime on the sheets.

"Give me your arm."

"Why?"

Taking Jem's good arm, Will pulled a stele from his jacket, tracing a stamina rune on the pale skin of Jem's arm. It was followed by a strength rune and another iratze, lacing his arms like fabric designs. The pale tracery of veins at his wrist was where his pulse quickened and thudded beneath his skin. Pulling his arm out of Will's grasp, he looked up. "What was that for?"

Tucking his stele in the inner folds of his jacket, Will licked his lips. "I saw how you were outside. You almost had an attack."

"I just tripped." Jem assured him, though the dizzy specks of light at the edges of his vision belied his words. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing them to go away.

"You need to be well. I need you to be well. Who knows what danger we might encounter at The Dark House, not," Will added hastily, "that I couldn't handle it on my own, of course."

Jem's eyes fluttered open, his silver lashes casting shadows like tiny scars on his cheekbones. His eyes were brighter than Will had ever seen them, whether it was his more frequent intake of the drug or the way the sunlight lit the pasty white room. Looking at Will thoughtfully, Jem squeezed Will's hand. "You'll be able to handle it all, I know that, Will. But I'm afraid I'm not going to be there with you."

"You're busy?"

"Charlotte's told me I need to stay here, at the Institute. It wasn't my decision, but she says its for the best."

Will whispered something under his breath that sounded like cheeky bastard, scowling at no one in particular. "Well, at least you can join Jessamine doing the boring jobs like going through the archives."

Jem laughed breathily. "You wish."


	64. Chapter 64

"So you've finally found the whereabouts of this 'Dark House', have you?" Jem inquired, sauntering into the dining room. Will flashed him a small grin, shoving a piece of toast in his mouth.

"Yes, while you've been sitting here lazily playing your violin and dawdling, I've been out and about on expeditions. I traveled through the Downworlder towns offering money for anyone who knew what they symbol meant. Finally, someone admitted they knew where it was." Will tried to say through a muffled bite of bread. "But I also found something else out. Two members that live in The Dark House are also affiliated with the Pandemonium Club. They're called the Dark Sisters."

"The Dark Sisters." Jem scoffed incredulously. "How fitting."

"I also found out that The Dark House was formerly a brothel, which makes this investigation much more interesting indeed. Perhaps, if I ever get a night off, we can both go together, though I've heard the customer service there is awful."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm not. What I'm saying is that the house is dilapidated and you shouldn't feel sorry that you can't go because it's out of business anyway."

"Will!"

"Say, while I've been working hard, have you perfected that new song of yours...what was it called again? Song of the Banshee's?"

"I only hit that wrong note because you came bursting into my room like a madwoman who had just been bitten by a werewolf." Jem defended himself, sliding into a seat at the table. He picked up a piece of toast and set it onto the plate before scouring the table for a knife. "Will. Do you have the butter knife? I can't seem to find it?"

"Here," Will grabbed a knife next to him, tossing it across the table, which was quite a far distance indeed. Jessamine let out a little shriek almost toppling over in her chair as the knife soared across the table. Jem caught it with ease, giving Will a small smile.

"Thanks."

"My pleasure." Will said happily, awarding himself another mouthful of toast for his good aim. Cutting a small bit from the butter, Jem spread it on his toast before turning back to Will.

"When are you going on your little expedition to The Dark House?"

"After Henry is done making the blueprints. It's quite an old house, really, but its very big."

"You'll have to study it."

Will tapped the Mnemosyne at the base of his throat, right above his collarbone. It had been Will's favorite rune since he was thirteen, allowing him to have perfect photographic memory. "I have this."

"Right." Jem swept the knife absentmindedly across his piece of bread, glancing at the scar that ran along the bottom of his wrist. "Is there anything, perhaps, that I could help you with?"

"Yes, many things, such as saving me some of the butter." Will muttered, raising an amused eyebrow. Jem looked down at his piece of bread, realizing that he had been subconsciously putting more butter on it as he and Will chatted. Just then, Henry burst into the room with a scroll of papers in his hand.

"I've made the blueprints!" He shouted gleefully, his red hair sticking up every which way. Shoving the papers on the desk, he knocked Jem's plate onto the floor, not only shattering it, but making his overly buttered toast fall with it too. Mouthing sorry at Sophie as she entered the room with a bucket and a towel, she gave Jem an impatient smile back.

"Good God, Henry. Have you also set the basement on fire? Is that why you've gone awfully giddy?" Will observed, his eyes wide with utter surprise. "Or have you finally gone round the bend?"

"Round the bend? Nonsense." Unrolling the scroll, Henry pointed at a few rooms, mumbling something incoherently that Will had to strain to hear. Jem peered onto it to see a map-work of halls and rooms of The Dark House. "You're lucky I finally finished these before I finished the Igniter. It's for setting things on fire so matches are no longer necessary, though the Sensor might me more useful when it comes to Shadowhunting. Charlotte's trying to get me to abort the Igniter mission, though I see no reason in her claims that it might be dangerous."

"Did she really?" Will said, clearly unperturbed. He gave a little shrug as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Women."

Henry pushed his goggles up and out of his face, his mouth still curled up in a lopsided grin. "Thomas and I will give you backup."

"By the Angel, no." Will sputtered, choking on his tea. Jem gave Will a glare. "I mean, fine. But you ought to let me do the main part. I'll scope the house and then alert you when I am ready...The usual."

"Dandy!" Henry exclaimed, his goggles falling back down awkwardly across his nose. Will gave a cough that sounded vaguely like 'loopy idiot', in which Jem replied with another strange cough that sounded like 'shut up'.

"All your bantering is draining me of my energy. I might as well just be right off to bed again." Jessamine pouted, popping a sugar cube into her mouth. She chewed slowly, then turned to lecture Will on how he shouldn't put so much sugar in his tea it's bad for him. Letting out a small snort of laughter, Will covered his hand with his mouth to cover his absurdly wide grin.

"Look who's talking." Will countered, raking his eyes up and down Jessamine shamelessly as she popped another sugar cube into her mouth. "Youth shan't be wasted on such healthy things. Loosen your corset, Jessamine. Have a glass of gin once in a while."

Letting out a sharp breath of surprise and horror, Jessamine turned away from him, seething with anger. Jem laughed inwardly at the sight of a drunk Jessamine.


	65. Chapter 65

Leaning against the railing to the Blackfriars Bridge, Jem stared off into the distance. The sky was gray and hazy; beautiful weather for a Londoner. It hadn't rained all morning, thus resulting in a slightly happier Will. He wasn't jealous at all that Will had been able to go to The Dark House at all, though he couldn't help but wonder what kind of trouble he would get into.

Jem hadn't come here quite as often as he wanted, but that's what made his journeys here even more special. It was a place to think, to be away from everyone while they were out and about scrambling around. Shifting his dragon cane from hand to hand, Jem glanced down, making sure his Mendelin was still working. Normally, glamours were a hassle, but they served Shadowhunters well when it came to working in peace, not that Jem was currently working.

Something as simple as going out to the bridge would be safe without a glamour, but the black lines of a new rune that were curling up his neck would be very peculiar to someone as ordinary as a mundane. Also, with all the ruckus surrounding the Downworlders house regarding the Pandemonium Club, Jem didn't want to risk anything.

Letting out a strained breath, he moved his hand instinctively to the parabatai rune near his neck as if it would make him feel like he was with Will. The rune had been utterly agony when he had first gotten it, but now, it was comforting knowing that he would always have something that would tie him to another. The rune was hot and it seemed to have a life of it's own, though Jem wasn't entirely sure if he was imagining that or not. Burning under his fingertips, Jem pulled the collar of his shirt to cover it though no one could see it anyway.

Making his way down the bridge, he stopped to stare at the couples and groups passing beside him. They glanced his way at him or rather, through him, pointing at the small silhouettes of buildings and factories in the distance. A young couple passed him, chattering about all the unimportant things, from dances to gossip, and yet, Jem couldn't help but feel a small twinge of longing.

As if he had been punched in the stomach, Jem doubled over, his gloved hand wet from being slammed down onto the bridge floor. Trying to stifle the coughing fit that shook his body, Jem raised his hand to his mouth, splattering his once pristine white gloves with blood. With a slow, cautious breath, he stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Shaking off such unwanted feelings, Jem cast one more wistful glance at the couple before walking unhurriedly back to the Institute. It had been a while since Will had gone off The Dark House, so Jem suspected he would be at the Institute sooner or later, but knowing Will, he ought to have complicated things up a bit for his own amusement. Opening the door, Jem wasn't surprised to see Charlotte in the main room, a handful of papers in her hand.

"Has Will and Henry returned yet?" Jem asked, shutting the door quietly behind him. She looked up above the papers, shaking her head.

"Unfortunately not. I do suspect they shall be here in no time." Charlotte sighed, shifting through the crumpled parchment. "I'm just trying to see if there is any other information we missed. There must be something. Will ought to look for evidence of something sinister going on around the house."

"That would be most helpful indeed." Jem said carefully, turning away from her.

"Oh, James." Charlotte said, giving him a rueful smile. "Don't fret about not being able to go. You shan't worry about yourself."

"It's not me I'm worried about."

"William is going to be just fine." Setting down the papers, she folded her glasses and tucked them in a pouch next to her. "He's seventeen. He'll manage."

"And I was the one who tried to convince you to let him do this expedition in the first place. It seems as if your trying to comfort me with my decision."

"We'll just have to hope he does what is best. Though I do question his motives. It does not seem interested in helping the mundanes."

"I had already realized that after the Clave meeting. Will's peculiar that way. He enjoys getting on the Clave's nerves and upsetting them with his way with words. He's always been like that. You, out of everyone, should know that Charlotte." Jem said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, but not accusingly. "Oh, I shouldn't be talking about him in this sort of way, though I can't deny that it's all true." He shrugged self depreciatingly. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"You should go get some rest. I'll have Sophie bring something to your room for dinner. We can't afford you to get sick again."

Putting his hand on the wall beside him to steady himself, Jem opened up his mouth to complain, but quickly shut it when he saw her worried expression. He drummed his fingers against the wall, then turned to look back at her with an eerily blank expression. "Of course. If you need me, please feel free to ask or send Sophie."

"I will." Charlotte murmured as he left the room. She glanced down at the papers from the Archives, the microscopic words slightly burry without her glasses. Raising her eyes as she hear the door to Jem's door close, something caught her gaze. Noticing the shiny silvery smear on the wall, Charlotte sighed, wondering if Will had been messing with the oil paints. Then, upon further observation, she realized that the smear was in the exact place Jem's hand had been.


	66. Chapter 66

Listening to the slight patter of rain outside he window, Jem pushed himself up from the end of his bed and started to head to his Yin Fen box. Jem paused on his way to the mantle above his fireplace, his hand frozen midair. Turning around, he smiled slightly at the sight of Will's silhouette in his doorway. "Finally back from the mission of yours, William?"

"Oh, there's plenty more you should hear, James. Much more than we expected." Will said with an absolutely charming grin, his blue eyes glittering with excitement. "We've got company."

"Oh, dear God. Who is it?"

"A girl."

"A girl?"

"You know." Will drawled, stepping further into the room. "Female specimens, full of drama really."

"I know that, but why?" Jem inquired, keeping his expression carefully neutral. "Did you find her at The Dark House?"

"She attacked me with a bottle, or a jug or whatever it was. Then, after smashing it upon my head and cutting my finger in the most dreadful fashion, she asked me if I was intoxicated. Ahh, but then I suppose all Americans are quite rude." Sliding into an armchair in the corner of Will's room, he crossed one leg over the other, pushing hair from his face. "Of course that wasn't at all the most interesting part."

"Do continue." Jem said placidly, though his mind was focused on a thousand other worries. "We wouldn't want you to waste any of your embellished tales on just your thoughts now, would we?"

"When we finally made it down to some sort of slaughterhouse with all sorts of dead and mangled mundanes, two women, the Dark Sisters, proceeded to enter the room. They were old ladies, hardly fit for the fighting sort."

"So they're dealt with?"

"Well, err, one of them was beheaded but only the Angel knows where the other one is." Will shrugged, swiping a dirty hand across his forehead. "The girl then bit Henry when he tried to move her out of the way. Hah, you should have seen his face."

"I'm just ecstatic that you had delight in watching her bite Henry. I bet your also proud of your sorry self for beheading that woman. That couldn't have been too pretty though."

"She was bleeding some black sludge that looked vaguely like the stuff I used to eat back in Whales. Of course I did find it under a tree in the crook of a hill, but it was absolutely disgusting nonetheless." Scraping a thin line of dirt from his fingernail, Will scrunched his face up in scrutiny. "Goodness. The cut still hasn't gone away." Glancing over at Jem, who had moved to stand by the window, he frowned. "Are you sure you're alright? You've been awfully quiet."

"I'm fine. I'm just pondering." Jem murmured, touching the freezing window pane with his fingertips. Two birds swirled overhead, their dark black tipped wings cutting through the rain almost effortlessly. And Jem was envious because they were free. "Have you ever wondered about the birds, Will?"

"Like ducks?"

"No. Like falcons." Jem said. "They pity no one. They answer to no one. Their lives are simple. When they look down they see nothing but their prey, and the borrowed rising buildings of London: they see a flittering, flinching universe, a universe filled with their dinner. And yet, despite everything, they have not a care in the world."

"Since when did this become a serious conversation, James?" Will said good naturedly, though there was a slight sharpness to his voice that sounded vaguely like subtle disappointment. "I wouldn't ever want to be a _bird_. Nasty things they are too."

"Why not?"

"When the sun sets, they cannot see and all they can do is return to their post and wait until morning."

"The sun also rises."

"Mores the pity." Will sighed dramatically, letting his arms hang off the arms of the chair like a limp ragdoll. "You've definitely gone into the deep end. Who in their right mind would want to be a bird?"

"You could fly." Jem offered, a small silver glint in his eyes.

"I'd chop them all in half or skewer them on my dagger."

"That's horrible."

"I don't care if that's horrible. According to you, I'm a sadist and I'm probably going to hell, and I don't care. I'd rather be in hell than anywhere where you are." Will said harshly before realizing it had offended him. Jem was still expressionless, though his eyes were flat and dark, no longer focused on Will. "Not that you're anywhere near as bad as hell."

"That just puts us both in a dandy mood, now, doesn't it, Will." said Jem, a hint of displeasured sarcasm dripping in his voice. He forced a small grin on his face, turning to look at Will. "Where is this girl that you speak of?"

"In a guest room. She's got a nasty concussion. Brother Enoch is taking a look at her right now. I've got my bet that she's a Downworlder of sorts. Possible a faerie."

"She'd have to be extraordinarily pretty like all faeries."

"She might be, not," Will added quickly, "That I think she is. It's based purely off of what I have observed. She could also be a warlock, though I didn't see any mark on her. I could check further, though."

Jem let out a snort, picturing the girl in his head as she swung the jug down on Will. He would have given anything to see the surprised and angered look that he knew his parabatai had on his face at that very moment. "I don't think she likes you very much. Then again, who does really? You've gotten slapped enough times to write an entire novel about all the bloody noses and blood you've gotten on your clothes after such encounters."

"Good idea."

"You're hopeless, Will." Jem muttered, raising an eyebrow. "But, anyway, she's unconscious?"

"I told you I could be dangerously charming, but I bet she'll wake soon for dinner. Speaking of dinner, I really ought to go get cleaned up. You know how Charlotte throws a fit when I don't come to eat perfectly cleaned and dressed. She always gives me a tediously long lesson about manners, which I bet Jessie has helped her recite at the late hours of the night. Charlotte has always been uptight about those types of things."

Looking at Will, who was covered in dirt, blood, ichor of sorts, and plenty of other bits of grime that Jem had no idea of what they consisted of, he just shook his head slowly and affectionately. "I can't imagine why."


	67. Chapter 67

Once Jem had washed up and changed into his night clothes, he immediately crossed the room over to the fireplace mantle. Surrendering to the creeping pain in his chest and the fatigue that threatened to drag him under, Jem was too impatient to dissolve the Yin Fen in water. Pinching a moderate amount between his fingertips, he sprinkled it in his mouth and let it numb his mouth with it's burnt sugar taste. He felt guilty as a shock of delirious pleasure ran through him, feeling like he had just consumed one too many cups of alcohol. He was wide awake now, his hands slightly jittery from the way he took it straight up rather than in water.

Reaching feverishly for his dressing gown, he pulled it from a chair and fastened it at the neck. It was silky and cool, feeling refreshing against his burning skin. Taking a shaky breath, he could feel the buzz from the Yin Fen start to dwindle, but the ache that ran through his body was suppressed. He had already eaten since Charlotte had Sophie bring his food to his room, but he still felt subtly inclined to join the others at the dining room table.

Shaking off such unhealthy feelings of longing, Jem returned to the mantle and lifted the dark, wooden box from it's resting spot. As he lifted the lid, the hinges didn't creak and simply lifted soundlessly; he had always taken good care of his belongings, even if it was as simple as a violin case. Taking his violin out using one hand to scoop under it and one to stabilize the box, he set it carefully down on the seat of the armchair. drawing the bow from it's case, he set it out beside it.

Tightening his bow in one hand and grabbing his rosin from the mantle with the other, he swept the rosin across the strings for good measures. Then, picking up his violin, he rested it on his shoulder, under his chin.

He had heard of a shoulder rest and had used on quite a few times, but it restricted the amount of quality one could put into sound. _It is not simply about notes strung together in a melody, _his father had told him once, _but the measure of emotion you can fill it with. _But that had been when he was still alive.

Even so, he could still hear his father in his head after five years of being in London, the same emotional nonsense that had never made sense until now. When he was younger, he was compared most to his mother, though he took a strange likeness to the looks of his father. People had always said Jem and his mother were both practical, fairly blunt, and always realistic. However, as Jem grew up, he realized they were wrong. Not only had he grown awfully sentimental, but Will had told him that he looked too deeply into problems multiple times.

Before moving to place the bow with it's newly rosined strings against the violin, he started to reach for another pinch of the Yin Fen. Instead, he bit his tongue to get himself to focus on the pain and forced himself to look away.

Nearing the window in his bedroom, he cracked it slightly, letting in a gust of cool air. It mused his hair and ruffled his dressing gown, but it felt nice in the stuffy room. Finally, trying not to look at the silver box on his mantle, he positioned his bow on the strings and began to play.

It was quiet at first; a simple melody that sounded light and concise. As he let himself fall deeper and deeper into his dizzying fever, his movements quickened and rose to a crescendo. The tips of his fingertips ached but it helped keep his mind off the drug. Something as simple as playing his violin often helped him from taking everything he had at once and letting himself burn like a supernova in his hazy world. _But that, _Jem thought sullenly, _would only do awful things for my health._

His train of thoughts were immediately broken as he continued to increase the intensity, fueled by the want for the drug and the relief that it gave him. The edges of his vision were hazy, almost as if he were looking through a glass lens that had been fogged up by the incessant misty London weather.

Stopping only to catch his breath, Jem felt himself yearning for his parabatai to have someone to talk to. Despite Will's lies and imprudent behavior, he was the only comfort besides his violin when he was in this kind of state.

Letting the music flow slowly from his violin like water, Jem closed his eyes in concentration as he tried to keep steady, though his shaking hands and cloudy thoughts did little to help him. Finally, after forcing himself to relax and ignore the side effects of the drug, Jem was content. His body was no longer as tense as a bowstring, coiled to break. Instead, Jem slid to bow across the violin freely, letting it sing at its own accord.

Somewhere in the mist of his playing, he heard someone at the door. It opened slowly with a small click as someone stepped inside. Though he did not cease to play his violin, he felt the air in the room lighten. "Will?" He called out softly, "Is that you?"

When there was nothing but the sound of his violin that rang through the air, he immediately knew something was wrong. His parabatai usually was loud and obnoxious, not at all afraid to make himself comfortable in his room. Bring his bow to his side, he turned his head to look back at the doorway. "Will-"

He broke off when he realized that the figure who had entered was not Will. In fact, it wasn't even someone he knew, which made the situation even more peculiar. At first, when he saw her, it seemed as if she was just a smudge of glowing white, which Jem brushed off as just his imagination. Then, upon a second glance, he realized that she was still there. Her eyes were grey like stormy skies, unusually bright in the shadows of his doorway. Though her hand that was placed ever so tentatively on the doorjamb was tense, her features were relaxed and pleasant. He could tell she had been eavesdropping by the look of her astonished and quite guilty expression.

His mouth was parted in surprise as he stupidly observed, "You're not Will." _Obviously!_ Jem scolded himself internally. Then, a small smile graced her lips and Jem couldn't help but have the same pleased expression. He wasn't sure if she was a part of his hallucinations, or if an angel had simply wandered from heaven into his room, but one thing he knew was for certain.

Jem Carstairs was in love.

* * *

**Author's Note PLEASE READ: Okay, wow...Please no hate, but this is the end of my series. HOWEVER (do not miss this however) after this chapter will be a collection of Infernal Devices one-shots! I need suggestions about anything as long as I can keep it at a T (And possibly M but not bad enough to change it) rating. I will pretty much do anything as long as it isn't too explicit or stupid.**

**Just review and add your one-shot suggestion and I will be happy to comply. Trust me, I need these suggestions because all the one-shots after this run on your ideas.**

**So think, review, and I will write! **

**Special thanks to LightwoodLady25, SilverCarstairs and TickTockClockWork for reviewing on many of my chapters. (I hope I'll be seeing some suggestions from you guys. *wink wink*)**

**In much anticipation,****MortalShadowhunter**

**P.S. If you haven't already, make sure to answer my poll on my profile page. Thanks!**


	68. Chapter 68

**The results of my poll has spoken! The audience wants romance! This is what I expected Jem and Tessa's first kiss to be like. This is set in Shades of the Past when Tessa, Jem and Will go to Aloysius Starkweather's Institute and see the spoils. Jem's POV: what would have happened if he was the one that woke her up rather than Will. (Don't worry SilverCarstairs, your suggestion will be next)**

At the end of the large corridor, A stood with his hand on the door, eyeing them as if he expected them to make some sort of grand gesture or comment. He smiled, a cold sort of demeaning one like a man setting himself up for a bad thing. "Ever been to the Crystal Palace?" Without waiting for their answer, he tapped the door with a wrinkled finger. "Well this is even better."

As he shimmied the rusty door open, Jem swallowed in anxiety as he saw what the room held. Rows of cabinets topped with glowing witchlights shown inside the gruesome display cases. Will raised an eyebrow, glancing from Jem and then to Starkweather as he entered the Tessa moved to go forward, he caught her arm, trying to stop her from entering such a horrifying room. "Don't-"

Pulling out of his grip, Tessa moved forward in front of Will and Starkweather. At first, she looked fascinated, but as she moved forward to the more sinister parts of the spoils collection, she raised her hand to her mouth in surprise. Jem couldn't blame her. Even he was slightly horrified at the state of the room. Bodies of all sorts were stacked upon each other in the cases, a solid layer of dried blood caked at the bottom. Jars of disembodied body parts soaked in a variation of formaldehyde stank up the already stuffy room, nauseating them all. Starkweather was the only one who seemed to be delighted in this moment.

Snatching one of his prizes from inside a cabinet, Starkweather held it up by it's hair. The skin was gray and ragged at the base, rotting tendrils of flesh hanging from the base of it's neck. Tessa wobbled precariously on her feet, her stiff taffeta dress crinkling as she leaned against the wall.

"Got this off a warlock I killed down in Leeds way," Starkweather said proudly, oblivious to Will and Jem's disgusted facial expressions. "You wouldn't believe the fight he put up-"

Out of the corner of Jem's eyes, he saw Tessa start to stumble, he knees giving way beneath her. Immediately at her side, Jem caught her as she fell, holding her against his chest. "My fiancée...She's never seen spoils before. Tessa can't stand blood. She's quite delicate." Jem said quickly, glancing up at Starweather who seemed completely unfazed by Tessa fainting.

Will glanced at Starkweather angrily, then moved to help Tessa from the room. Though it was quite improper having Jem and Will half carry, half drag her from the room, they didn't stop to bother about propriety in the situation at hand. With one arm slung over Jem's shoulder, and another gripping at Will's coat, Tessa blinked her eyes open blearily.

"Oh, dear." Tessa murmured as she struggled to pull herself from consciousness. "I've made quite a fool of myself, haven't I?"

"Well, look at that. Miss Gray is perfectly fine." Starkweather grumbled, mutely crestfallen that his tour of the spoils had been cut abruptly short. "Shall we proceed to the next room?"

"Shut it, Starkweather." Will snapped, glaring in his direction.

"What Will means to say," Jem said slowly and carefully, giving Will a sharp stare, "was that she would do well with some rest. We can't possibly see anything else if she's not feeling well, can we?"

"Oh my. Fainting ladies; reminds me of the Devil's Tavern." said Will, vaguely amused.

"Er. I guess that would be in our best interest." Starkweather said at last, calling over one of his servants. She hobbled over to him; it seemed as if everyone in the Institute was old and decrepit. "You take that Gray girl and get her ready to retire." Waving his hand lazily in Tessa's direction, Starkweather turned around and went to talking absent mindedly about some other adventure he had been on.

Jem nodded his thanks as the servant took a still dizzy and very drowsy Tessa from him, helping her to an empty room. Then, moving to follow Starkweather, he shadowed Will to where his own room would be.

Thankfully, Will's room was just across from his, so Jem wouldn't have to worry about either of them getting lost looking for each other. Setting his bags down by the crook of the desk, Jem shrugged off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair. As he made his way over to the nightstand, which had a book rested precariously on the edge, he couldn't help but wonder if Tessa was alright.

Succumbing to his curiosity, he pushed his door open as quietly as he could and hurried back to where her room was. The halls were creaky, which made it hard to step lightly, though the rustle and constant movement of the servants in the far corners of the Institute made it easy to slip in the halls unnoticed. He contemplated using the witchlight in his pocket, but didn't want to get caught by anyone who was roaming the halls. After getting lost numerous times, Jem arrived at what he was sure was Tessa's room.

When he rested his hand on the door, he realized it wasn't closed all the way. Then again, none of the doors in the Institute worked that well anyway. Pushing it open a small crack, he blinked as he tried to adjust to the pitch blackness inside her room. Finally, after a few moments, he could see her silhouette in her bed, the covers mused and her hair falling from her plaits as if she were having a nightmare. _She probably is having a nightmare after what that crazy old Starkweather man showed her the spoils_, Jem noted, his hand still pressed against the door.

The movement stopped, and all he could hear were her fast and panicked breaths coming fast in the silence. Pulling back to retreat to his own room, he turned around and moved to shut the door.

"Jem?" Her voice called softly as if questioning his presence. Stopping midway as he moved to leave, Jem pushed her door back open the slightest bit until he could see her face. "Whatever are you doing out there?"

"Forgive me," Jem said hurriedly, his cheeks flushing with red. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You seemed to be having a nightmare."

"I'm alright now. I just think the spoils came as quite a surprise." Tessa said, pulling up the covers. It was almost as if they could sense each others embarrassment so, as an attempt to diffuse the situation, Tessa just looked around in curiosity. "It's a pleasant enough building. I've read about spoils in The Codex. Why ever would anyone want such a grisly collection?"

"They're trophies of sorts. Bragging rights to the Downworlders and other creatures they've killed." Jem explained, slipping inside and pushing the door closed behind them. "Starkweather has never liked Downworlders."

"Is that why I'm disguised as a mundane?"

"I don't know what you are, but that doesn't change anything, does it? You could be a Downworlder, you might not be. But in everyone's eyes though, you're like us. Isn't that what matters most?"

Tessa shrugged, looking down shyly at the covers bunched in her hands. "I guess. Why doesn't Starkweather like Downworlders."

"I'm not entirely sure. I'm guessing he was just raised like that. Many Shadowhunters are taught to think a certain way, though the Accords say we must treat all as equals. It is as if he thinks of anyone who is not a Shadowhunter to be lower than him. How can anyone raised as a purist be anything but a purist?" Jem said thoughtfully, his mouth twitching up into a comforting smile. She smiled back slightly, her gray eyes reflecting like two pinpricks of light off the small moonbeams that filtered into the room.

Letting the covers drape off the edges of the bed as she pushed herself to her feet, she went to rustle through her bags. Sighing in exasperation when she couldn't find what she was looking for, she pushed her bag under a table.

"Looking for something?" Jem asked, pushing hair from his face.

"I was looking for a book, but I remembered I didn't bring any."

"You remind me of Will, always with a book in hand." said Jem fondly. "He most likely has one. Shall I retrieve one for you?"

"No. It's quite alright. I'm tired anyway."

"Tessa."

"Yes?"

"I...If you need anything, feel free to ask." As he moved to exit the room, her hand on his shoulder stopped him. He stilled, drawing the witchlight from his pocket. When his fingertips met the cool stone, the room was instantly lit with a smooth glow, illuminating Tessa's face.

"One more thing. I was wondering, about Will..."

Jem tensed, his hand tightening around the witchlight. "Will? What about him?"

"I-" Tessa swallowed, pushing a brown curl from her eyes. "Never mind. I'm just paranoid about things."

"He's odd, I'll give you that, but he's Will. He's always been that ever since I've known him."

"I see. Alright, I won't keep you. I'm assuming Starkweather will see that we are off early in the morning." Tessa looked up, her hand brushing the side of his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"More than likely. I think he's realized we won't be much fun to show off too."

Tessa laughed slightly. "I think so too. Goodnight Jem."

Then, without meaning too, Jem curved his hand around her waist and pulled her closer, slanting his mouth down on hers. He could feel Tessa gasp in surprise, her hands tangling in his shirt. Pressing his hands to the small of her back, Jem tried to push back the raging desperation coiled inside of him. Instead, he put his fingertips beneath her chin, his mouth grazing her cheek. He had already put the witchlight back inside his shirt pocket, the light dimming to a pale shine.

Slipping her hands into the nonexistent space between them, Tessa coiled her fingers in the front of his shirt, drawing him down. When his hand met the cold chain of her clockwork angel, he pulled it gently from under her dressing gown. He had seen her angel necklace many times before, but he couldn't help but think of it as lovely in the lighting of the room. With the clockwork angel still clutched gently in his hand, he tangled his other in the back of her hair.

He had never imagined himself in such a position with Tessa; that she would be his even just for a fragile moment. The first time he had seen her, he thought that she was nothing more than a hallucination of an angel, but now, he knew that she was real. Her eyelashes fluttered against his temple as he pressed his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her lavender perfume. Pulling away finally, he let her angel fall back down against her nightgown, two dashes of cuts where the tips of the wings had cut his hand.

There was one hand over her mouth, her fingertips brushing against her lips in surprise. Then, tentatively, she smiled, her gray eyes looking at Jem through the shadows. "Wǎn'ān, wǒ de tiānshǐ." He said softly, touching her cheek lightly. "Goodnight." Without waiting for a response, he let go of her and walked slowly from the room, a new feeling of nervousness and giddiness welling up inside of him.


End file.
